#well i understand how its been done before: its a damn good idea

[fardf150]

fuck

[leclerced]

Heyyy hope you have a good day, i come bearing new thots

Credit where credit’s due, the idea is an old and deleted roger Taylor fic and not from me.

HOWEVER. Im now obsessed with this scenario with either lando or oscar (ill let you choose <3)

Roommate!AU !!!

Imagine you’re friends and roommates with lando or oscar and he has to study for his upcoming biology exam at uni. The topic? Female reproductive organs🤭

He just genuinely struggles with understanding the anatomy of a vagina and that picture in his damn book is absolutely not recognisable.

And since him and reader are friends and she doesn’t think thoughts all the way through she offers him to look at hers. I mean hes seen her shirtless a million times its nbd.

And staring at her beautiful pussy really does help him - to an extend. Hes so into his studies he doesn’t really process that he asked her „can i touch it??“ and she just goes along with it bc it’s already lowkey awkward and theres no turning back now.

She tries to not make it more awkward by suppressing her moans when his finger brush over her clit all while hes just identifying parts with his thoughts oblivious to what he does to her.

And she cant keep in the moan when he pushes his fingern in and suddenly he realises what hes doing. But he sneakily keeps going until she cums and hes trying his best to keep up the ignorant act bc shes js too hot like that😩

Got damn it i need a full length version of this fic again 😭

-🫀

i want to write a full length version omfg this is incredible!!! pictured oscar immediately. kinda set in like the early 2000s in my head bc i wanted to mention dvd rentals One Time and that's not a thing anymore but that's the world i grew up in LMAO

sorry i like got too into this at first and forgot i made plans to game with my friend and rushed the ending im sorry. added read more bc it's just over 1k <3 i think i like this a lot other than the ending idk . lmk what u think i hope it meets the expectations set by the original

reader thinks oscar's an innocent idiot but he just probably shouldn't be in medical school because while he can find the clit, he certainly doesn't know the name of it.

Her roommate has been staring at the same page for half an hour, they're seated on opposite ends of the couch, leaning against the arms and facing each other. She has a Stephen King novel leaned on her propped up knees and Oscar has an open textbook balanced on one thigh and a notebook open to a blank page on the other. After another frustrated sigh leaves him, she drops her book on the coffee table and leans over to see what he's looking at. She almost laughs when she sees the miniature sketch of a vagina, "You know, the DVD rental place down the street has rated X movies."

Oscar snorts, "I'm trying to work, leave me alone. I'm supposed to learn all the anatomical names of a vagina, but the only drawing I have is in this stupid book."

She leans in further to the diagram and hums, "That's a horrible diagram, no wonder you're getting nothing done. How old is that that textbook?" He shrugs and stretches back over the arm of the couch, "Probably like thirty, the professor wrote it himself and he's ancient."

Her eyes get pulled to his hips as he reaches behind his head and groans, his shirt lifting the slightest to reveal soft skin before he drops his arms back down. She licks her lips as she directs her gaze up to his face, "I could show you mine, if you want." The swift inhale Oscar makes is audible, he keeps his gaze locked on the books in his lap as he says, "Really?" Instead of verbally agreeing, she just scoots back to where she was leaning moments before on the arm of the couch and shimmies her shorts down before she can think twice. She giggles at the look on Oscar's face as she kicks the shorts off her ankles and he takes in the sight of her panties, lacy and red. "Are you sure?"

She shrugs and teases, "Well it's not like they have 3D models. I'm sure, I wouldn't have offered otherwise. Are you sure?" He nods slowly and she tugs her panties down her thighs and smirks at the blush that creeps up his cheeks as she drops them on his lap. She doesn't know where the sudden confidence has come from, but she feels no shame as she opens her legs to him. She drops one foot to the floor and the other lifts to rest on the back of the couch. Oscar holds her eye for a moment before she watches his gaze drift down her body and he starts to lean in before pausing, "Can I get closer?" She nods at his question and answers, "As close as you want." Oscar lurches forwards, knocking the forgotten textbook to the floor as he fumbles to grab his pen and notebook to take notes.

She can't read his chicken scratch handwriting, so whatever he's scrawling about her pussy is undecipherable to her as she watches him analyze her. She's trying not to think about how this could be weird, how it is weird to offer to let your roommate use you as an anatomy dummy. It's not really the first time. He's done other things, like when he needed to practice IVs so she let him give her a banana bag the next time she was hungover. She liked teasing him about it, calling him Doctor Piastri when she let him listen to her heart with his stethoscope. Or when she comes down with a cold and she calls him into her room to diagnose and treat her, and he brings her cold medicine and soup from the deli down the street.

She's pulled out of her thoughts when he clears his throat and she meets his eyes before she hums quizzically. The pink tint that had spattered his cheeks turns into a bright red as he asks, "Can I touch you?"

She almost thinks she didn't hear him correctly, but there's no way he could have said anything else, so she tries to joke, "So you're a hands on learner, then?"

Oscar quickly counters, "Yeah, do you mind?"

It's her turn to lose her breath as she stupidly nods and blushes as she takes in the realization that he's about to touch her pussy. In the name of science, she agrees, "No, go ahead." Then, his hand is on her pussy and his focus is entirely on the space between her legs as he spreads her lips apart and she has to close her eyes and force her mind to other places as he tilts his had interestedly. She wishes she could stop her body from reacting to his touch, but she can't. Not when he pulls back the hood of her clit, she hears him writing something, then there's a soft pressure on her clit and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to not react. She tells herself not to make any sounds so it won't be weird, he's just trying to study, he's not doing anything to her really.

She can feel the wetness build under his fingers as he slips them down to her entrance and back up. She hears Oscar mutter something but she can't make it out over the blood rushing through her head as he presses his fingers back against her clit. "Is this... The labia?" The laugh she lets out is half a moan, "That's the- clit. Labia are the lips." He dips his fingers down and pinches one lightly, "This?"

She's somehow endeared by the curiosity, and sighs, "Yeah. That. Minora. The outer one is majora."

Oscar lets out a little huff, "How do you know the names? You're not even taking anatomy." His fingers find her clit again, this time lightly pinching it, and her thighs tense as he mumbles, "Clit." She hears his pen scratching across his paper and then dips his finger down to her entrance and presses inside. She wonders what he's thinking as he slowly thrusts his finger in and out of her, his other hand still writing on the paper. It's not until he slips a second finger inside of her and curls them as he suddenly presses his thumb to her clit that she breaks her silence, a whimper falling from her lips as the unexpected pleasure hits her. She somehow doesn't realize then that this isn't his first time like she thought when she saw the surprised look on her face. Then she flutters her eyes open and immediately realizes it because he's already looking up at her, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. She gasps, "You- you didn't really need help, did you?"

He shrugs innocently, "I still don't know the names, could you remind me?" She can't tell if he's being serious or not as he quickens his thumb on her clit and she's saved from responding as he pushes up her body and presses his lips to hers hungrily.

[gumnut-logic]

J Protocol

The Protocols

This one is a long time coming and I've been staring at it for hours, so have no idea if it is good enough and it hasn't been read through by anyone but me, so I'm going in blind.

This is for @onereyofstarlight who has waited long enough ::hugs::

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

John liked to be alone.

It allowed him to rest, to think, and to be himself. There were no demands on how he needed to act, what he was wearing or what he felt like saying.

Alone he could serenade the stars, karaoke dance to his ABBA collection, read without anyone commenting on what he was reading, and, hell, leave the bathroom door open if he wanted to. Being alone had its advantages.

But it also had its disadvantages.

Today had been an unpleasant one.

The fish brother in the back of his head cried foul and described it in much more colourful terms, in several different languages - did Gordon actually know how to speak Greek? All of the above would have had Grandma threatening to clean his mouth out with soap, but really, John couldn’t help but agree with the description.

Even the thought of his little brother had him smiling just a little as Thunderbird Five slowly grew larger.

He had been out in his exosuit, something he usually enjoyed when a rescue was close by. This had involved a couple of idiots in orbit who had done something very, very stupid.

And it cost them everything.

John had been fast, but space was faster and it took their lives.

Scott had been on comms at the time. His eldest brother had all the kind words amongst the command decisions, but a mission failure was still a failure and after the long shift before it, John was just tired and sad.

Returning home to Five was a relief, but there was part of him, a very small part of him, who missed the loud of home.

He liked being alone.

But he loved his family.

And today sucked all the ass.

Gordon, watch your language.

Talkin’ to yourself, bro.

Solitude also tended to promote conversations with himself.

“John, which airlock will you be using?”

But then, was he truly alone?

“The rear ‘lock, Eos. The suit needs some repairs and a good clean.”

“Should I alert Virgil?”

“No, I can manage.” But that would be an excuse to see his big brother. Virgil wasn’t a fan of space, but he would drop by at any hint of John needing help.

A glance in the direction of Tracy Island, in midnight darkness just like the whole half a planet beneath him.

John sighed as he slowed, firing reverse thrusters to kill off his velocity, to a smooth pacing of Five. Splattering himself across her solar panels would certainly be an undesirable end to an already shitty day.

Eos had the airlock open and waiting, enabling John to slip in quietly. Five crept around him with her protection. Being out in space was a raw experience. Beautiful, but raw. His ‘bird provided a sense of security with cahelium between him and the harsh environment.

The airlock sealed and the air pressure welled up, familiar in its reassuring caress. The inner door slipped open and he pushed off gently into the module he had left in such a hurry several hours earlier.

He ran through the disassembly routine for his exosuit, robotic arms pulling it gently from his body. For some reason he found himself leaning into that metallic touch.

Damn, maybe he had been away from Tracy Island for too long.

He would have to schedule some leave.

But he had that experiment running…and Auckland University were waiting for his write up on his comet. He could do the writing on Tracy Island - would his brothers give him the space?

The pun was ignored.

His brothers tried. He knew they tried. They respected his wishes as much as they could. Didn’t understand them, but respected them. They knew social interaction took energy he felt better spent elsewhere. They knew that what worked for them didn’t necessarily work for him.

They tried.

Hard.

But he also knew they missed him.

And he loved them for it.

Returning to Earth added him to their lives in three dimensions and they often wanted to take advantage of that. Hell, he wanted to take advantage.

But there was transition time from space to Earth, and all the stuff he had up here, and…

God, he was tired.

The mechanics finished up, leaving him floating free in the centre of the module.

He let himself drift just a little.

“John?”

Eos didn’t ask if he was okay, but the question was there anyway.

He sighed. “Stash the exosuit, I’ll do the repairs tomorrow.”

“Yes, John.” How did she put so much emotional inflection into those two words?

He refused to sigh again, simply reaching out to touch the wall and nudge himself towards the airlock leading into the central hub of Five.

The room lit up as he entered, the familiar map of the planet below spreading out across the spherical walls. The rescue indicators were clear for once in his life and he was quite happy to pass by the map and head for the gravity ring, aiming for his bathroom and the chance to clean off the sweat under his uniform.

“Hey.”

The sudden appearance of a body blocking his path confused his exhausted brain and he was slow to connect the dots of green, blue and heavy lifting brother.

“Whoa, Johnny, take a breath.”

A hand steadied him where his reaction had sent him spinning just a little.

“Virgil? What? Eos, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Virgil asked me not to. You said I should listen to Virgil, so I did.”

John deflated, and sighed in exasperation. “Virgil, why? You scared the shit out of me.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow.

Okay, so plain, old boring swear words weren’t usually his thing, but he was tired.

That eyebrow twitched in his direction.

Oh.

“Just dropping in for a home visit. That last situation was a rough one.”

“I’m fine, Virgil.” He pushed past his brother. “Just need some sleep.”

“Uh-huh.”

John rolled his eyes as he pushed himself out into the ring, his feet lightly landing in the low gravity environment. He strode across cahelium reinforced glass. “If you’re going to order me back to Tracy Island, I rather you didn’t.”

Virgil was obviously following him, the soft squeak of his specialised boots on the glass a not unfamiliar sound. “Haven’t even thought about it. Just wanted to drop by and see how you were going.”

“At two in the morning.”

“I’m a night owl.” He could feel his brother’s smile bounce off the back of his head.

John grunted as he reached the doors to his rooms. He turned to his brother standing behind him. “I’m going to get cleaned up. Back shortly.”

“Scott says debrief in the morning, but I would like to check you over before bed.”

“Really?” It was whiney and childish, and he earned that extra eyebrow arch, but damnit, he was tired.

“Really.” And there was just that touch of steel in Virgil’s voice. Not quite the same as Scott’s commander tone, but just as final. “Don’t make me come in there after you.”

“Fine.” He threw open the door and wished he could slam it behind him with all the petulance he felt right now.

Virgil didn’t answer, nor did he follow him.

It only took a moment or two for the guilt to sink in and John was faced with the fact that Virgil was worried about him. He climbed up into orbit, into space which he didn’t enjoy, to check on his little brother, only to encounter …John.

He let his head drop against the glass of his bedroom wall. Because of the lower gravity, his forehead did not hit with any of the thump he needed it to.

A sigh. He would apologise, but first he needed to get clean.

-o-o-o-

It was a bit longer than he had expected when he finally emerged from his rooms, but he felt just a little bit more human for the clean and new spacesuit.

Time also helped. His head had been caught up in rescue gone bad. Those few extra minutes helped him step back and breathe.

Virgil wasn’t outside his door, which, considering he’d likely left him with the impression he might have to hogtie John to get the readings he needed, was a surprise.

“Eos, where is Virgil?”

“In the infirmary. John, do you like pineapple?”

He frowned, heading in the direction of the small room set aside for medical needs on the gravity ring. “Yes, why?”

“Even if it is on pizza?”

“Uh, no. Pineapple should never be put on pizza.” He frowned as he slipped into the infirmary. “Have you been talking to Gordon?”

“Yes, and he is most emphatic that pizza should include pineapple in its toppings.”

“Gordon has issues.”

Virgil snorted. “That he does.” His brother looked up as John entered. Apparently, he was doing a medical supply inventory.

He had removed his baldric and harness, and was standing in his overalls-styled uniform without his usual green. It wasn’t right.

As if sensing John’s affronted senses, Virgil frowned. “You okay?”

John shrugged and sat down quietly, and obediently, on the small bed. “You need the green.”

Virgil looked down at himself, wrinkling his nose. “I do feel kind of naked.”

“So why did you take it off?”

“Didn’t need it. Need the suit for safety, but didn’t want to clink every time I moved.” He pulled the medscanner out of it protective sleeve on the bulkhead.

John held up a hand. “Sorry about before. I-“

Virgil put a hand on his arm. “Nothing. Been there, it’s not fun. Understandable.” And that was the end of that.

Virgil gently pushed John’s arm down to his side and began waving the scanner over John’s body.

Ten seconds later he turned off the scanner. “You’re good. Could do with some food, drink and sleep, but everything else is fine. You don’t even have any bruises.” A gentle smile. “You’re good, John.”

“Thank you.” There was a double meaning there, good in health and a compliment on a good job done. “And thank you for coming all the way up here. I could have saved you the trip.” He did know how to use the medscanner, after all.

“There is more to your health than what that scanner can tell me.” Virgil eyed him as he put the device away. “Besides, I like to see my all my brothers from time to time.”

“The time, Virgil. You should be in bed.”

Then as if to throw John completely out of whatever universe he was currently in, Alan bounded through the door. “Virg, it’s working. All ready to go.” His littlest brother looked up. “Oh, hey, John.” And he darted out as fast as he had entered.

“What?” The word burst out of his mouth. “How-?” He glared at Virgil. “What’s going on?”

But Virgil just straightened and smiled. “J Protocol.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Virgil strode past him and pushed open the door. “Come with.”

John found his mouth open and had to shut it. “Virgil-“

“Nope.” His brother waved an arm towards the door. “C’mon.”

Instinctively, John knew that if he didn’t move, Virgil would start on more drastic transport options. After all, John had seen his heavy lifting brother throw Scott over his shoulder in exasperation.

Virgil always got his way eventually.

John let his shoulders drop and walked through the door.

This time he felt like stomping instead of slamming, but the same emotion was behind both.

“Virgil, I’m fine.”

His brother nudged him forward as he shut the door behind them. “Good. Keep it that way.”

“But-“

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. “John, you need this.”

“I-“

But his brother herded him through the airlock into the central hub of Thunderbird Five.

The sphere was full of brothers.

And pizza boxes.

Scott was sitting cross-legged like some kind of suspended Buddha, poking at his phone. Gordon was upside down chattering non-stop to Alan who was the right way up - there was no ‘up’ in space, but there definitely was an ‘up’ on Thunderbird Five, despite the lack of gravity in her central hub - and conversing with an ease that spoke of extensive space experience.

An irrational sense of pride of his littlest brother swelled John’s heart.

All at once the three brothers realised John was in the room.

“Johnny! Welcome to the party!”

Alan flipped midair in an obvious over-the-top move to land right next to John. “Hey, John, way until you see what we’ve done.”

John frowned. “What have you done?” They better not have messed with his ‘bird.

But Scott had unfolded and was narrowing in on John with a frown. He didn’t say anything, just glanced a question at Virgil who gave him a nod.

His two eldest brothers were irritating when they did that, especially when the non-verbal conversation was obviously about him.

Scott reached out and gently clasped John’s arm. “Good job out there today.”

Yesterday, technically. “What are you all doing up here?”

“Pizza party!” Gordon’s eyes were glowing with glee.

“At 2.30 in the morning?”

Scott shrugged. “Sometimes pizza is just needed.” And there was something in his big brother’s eyes.

Goddamnit, he was fine.

But then Scott gently pulled him into a hug. It wasn’t tight, just a wrap of his arms around John, his head resting, just touching John’s shoulder.

The room was oddly silent.

And John found himself leaning into the hug. His brother’s caring touch etching into his skin, drawing him in deeper, feeding a need he hadn’t realised he had.

His head fell quietly onto Scott’s shoulder. The moment it touched, his brother’s grip tightened just a fraction before loosening again…so, so gentle.

Oh god.

But then Scott was equally as gently pulling away, blue eyes eyeing him as if unsure how he would react. Perhaps gauging his next move.

A big hand landed on his back and its partner wrapped around Scott’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” Virgil nudged himself between them, aiming for the huge pile of floating boxes.

The moment snapped and the world started moving again. Gordon and Alan joined Virgil with the boxes, happily discussing toppings…which ultimately led to the ongoing war between yes-pineapple and no-pineapple on pizza.

Gordon was never going to win that one, outvoted four to one, but he was a determined fish and kept up the battle at every chance.

It was a familiar sound of home.

Blue eyes were still staring at him. Saying so much unsaid.

“Hey, Johnny, me and Virg set up something cool for you.” Alan was bouncing as much as he could in a zero-g environment.

It forced John to look away from Scott. “What have you done?”

“Virgil said he wanted to set you free, but keep you safe, so we did this.” Alan poked at his wrist control.

And the hub walls disappeared.

What?

All his brothers, the stack of pizza, the random slice of pepperoni that chose that moment to drift through his eyeline - all of it, and them, was floating above the night side of Earth with nothing around them.

Thunderbird Five was gone.

His breath caught in his throat. “How?”

Virgil was smiling as he gazed at the view, pizza slice in hand. “A few more sensors on her hull, improved communication with the holoprojectors, and a little bit of programming by Alan, and you have your own space-themed holodeck.”

He stared at the lights of Auckland and Sydney. “You built me a holodeck?”

“Isn’t it cool?!” Alan was definitely bouncing.

John nodded. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

“This is the default view. It draws directly from Five’s exterior sensors. What you see here is what you’d see if we were outside. But I did add a few of my favourites for you and tweaked the input from your telescopes.”

Alan poked at his wrist control and Earth vanished.

It was replaced with a view of the Andromeda Galaxy. They were staring down at a sea of swirling stars surrounded by the deepest darkness.

“It’s not interactive, though. The processing power required for this resolution is huge and Five does have a much larger program it needs to keep safe.” He looked up for a moment, but when there was no response, Alan warily turned his attention back to John. “If you want to add more views, we’ll need to up Five’s storage. We should probably do that anyway. Never hurts to have more storage.”

“Says the video game addict.” Gordon snorted.

“Hey, your holos of fish take up more room than my games.”

“Are you kidding? Zombie death 16 pushed me onto external storage.”

“That was an accident.”

“How?”

“I may have put it on the house servers twice.”

“What? Did you delete it?”

“Of course I did.”

“Guys?” Virgil’s voice was ever so tolerant.

Gordon and Alan glanced at John. “Sorry.” It was a chorus of the both of them.

No, this was fine. It really was.

Andromeda glowed beneath them.

His family was…being his family.

And there was pizza.

He let himself float and closed his eyes.

The smell of toasted cheese and tomato sauce, peppers, that unique pizza smell.

His brothers talking quietly - Gordon and Alan still at it, but desperately trying to be quiet about it. John would look at digital storage options both for Tracy Island and Thunderbird Five tomorrow.

At the moment…

A soft touch to his shoulder and Virgil was offering him a slice of cheeseburger pizza, his favourite.

Scott had gone back to being aTracy Industries Buddha…until Virgil coasted past, snatched his phone out of his hand, and smoothly replaced it with a slice of pepperoni and cheese.

Scott’s protest was muffled by Virgil’s glare.

John bit into his pizza slice surrounded by his family and an amazing projection of his second favourite galaxy.

Yes, he liked to be alone.

But he also loved his family.

And they loved him enough to follow him.

-o-o-o-

[mychoombatheroomba]

Arrows (Krauser x GN! Reader)

You ask Jack for archery lessons, and both of you end up being in for a surprise.

Word count: 2,074

CW: fluff, archery, established relationship, slightly suggestive, confessions of love

Cross-posted on Ao3

The winds were bad that day, bad enough that Jack almost insisted on not going. Won’t be easy to learn with it like this, he’d told you. 

You’d just smiled, because you knew that damn smile would always win him over. The world could be falling apart, and Jack Krauser would still pause just to have one quick look at that smile. Good thing I’ve got you to teach me, then, you told him, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he caved. Always did when it came to you. 

The last few months with you had been . . . well, they’d hadn’t been perfect, but they’d been damn good. Jack had long ago resigned himself to the idea that he wouldn’t have anyone. His life was dedicated to his service, nothing more. It was simple. Easy. 

And then you’d waltzed in and knocked that simplicity right on its ass. 

For months he’d been amazed by how you managed to keep surprising him, from the way you’d never backed down from insisting you wanted to be with him, to the ease with which you spoke to him. The fire of your spirit, and the tender way you’d wind your arms around him when he woke in the night, helping him forget the faces waiting for him in the dark. None of it was what he’d expected. He hadn’t thought a civilian would understand . . . but you had been patient with him. Gentle when he needed it, firm when it was necessary. Ready to listen when he spoke of what troubled him, or to simply be there for him, even if silence was all he could offer. He’d warned you at the beginning that he wasn’t used to this - to having someone. You’d just smiled and told him to take his time. 

Nearly everything you did surprised him . . . just like when your eyes lit up at the mention of his skill with a bow. 

After all you’d done for him, archery lessons were the least he could give you in return. 

That was how the two of you ended up in a field, the wind whipping at you both, making autumn leaves dance through crisp air. And honestly, he should have known, even then, that something was up. 

The fact that you’d gotten your own bow should have been a dead giveaway. 

You’d presented it to him the night before, a simple recurve, old but well made. Perfectly suited to you, just your size and with a draw strength that you could manage. Simple and effective. Not at all like the heavy-duty compound that Jack was used to using. When he’d asked you where you’d gotten it, you’d just smiled that same, knowing smile. Told you, I want you to give me some pointers. That was all you’d said, and hell would freeze over before he refused you. 

So, he set up a target about twenty feet away from where you now stood, but he’d paused when he looked back and saw you standing there, your bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows strapped to a belt on your waist. You held the weapon like you’d been born with a bow in your hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He should have known . . . but he was a bit too busy staring at you to make the connection, because damn did you look good. 

It made him all too pleased to step into your space, warding off the cold wind and guiding you into the proper stance - side-face, your bow in front of you and an arrow nocked on the string. His hands were on you because that’s where they belonged, showing you from his own mastery of the craft how to shoot. It was every cliché moment in those movies as he instructed you on how to shoot, all while keeping his arms around you, and he was happy to indulge in that cliché. What had you done to Major Jack Krauser that made him want to indulge in such a thing? He didn’t know, but he didn’t care much then, either. Especially with the way your focus was more on him than any of the pointers he was giving you. 

“You’ll never shoot straight if you don’t pay attention,” Krauser leaned in to murmur the words in your ear, grinning all the while. 

You just grinned at him again, turning your head towards him a bit, still holding the bow out in front of you. “I’m paying attention, I promise.” He didn’t believe you one bit - and didn’t mind it, either. 

“Hm, guess we’ll see. Elbow up-” he reached his hand around your back, lifting the arm that would draw the bowstring back. “Now . . .” he went on, still keeping his lips by your ear, moving his other hand. His fingers brushed along your lips, relishing in the way they nearly parted for him, the way they curled into a smile. He traced the line until his fingertips rested at the corner of your mouth, the one closest to the bow’s string. “For a recurve, you pull it back to here,” he told you, and you nodded, keeping the bow straight up and down as you pulled the string back. 

God, you had no right to look like that with a weapon in your hand, the wind playing with your jacket and making you look like a damn action movie hero. Jack had to take a moment to admire it, to hum in your ear again as he nodded. 

“Good.” He stepped back from you, albeit reluctantly, because you were here to learn, after all. At least, that was what you said you wanted to do. “Just take a few shots,” he told you. “Aim at the center of the target and adjust- where do you think you’re going?” His voice was equal parts amusement and confusion as you turned on your heel and just . . . walked away. 

You didn’t even answer him as you put another ten feet between you and the target. Then another. And another. More and more distance until, if Krauser was guessing right, you were at least a hundred feet from the target.

And once you stopped there, you turned but didn’t draw. Not yet. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised when you turned your head to look at him and that smile was back. “Come on,” you tilted your head, beckoning him towards you. “Can’t draw with someone down-range.” 

Krauser’s pale brow pinched together, his face drawn in an incredulous expression. With the wind this bad, shooting from that range . . . but still, he did as you asked and moved to your side once more. “Ambitious of you, but-” You didn’t give him the chance to say anything more before you lifted the bow, drawing it back with a confidence Jack was floored by. Your eyes narrowed, your breathing steady as you took aim, a gust of wind sweeping through. Even that wasn’t enough to stop you as you adjusted your aim at the last second.

Then you let the arrow fly . . .

And your bravado was broken when it sunk into the side of the target on the outermost ring. “Shit,” you hissed, “ignore that one!” 

And Krauser couldn’t hold in the little laugh that escaped him, because even that would have been impressive to him. But you never could resist the temptation to surprise him, could you? That was all he thought as you expertly nocked another arrow and loosed it. 

This time, Krauser’s eyes went wide as the steel tip embedded itself in the target’s center. It was joined only moments later by another . . . and another. Pride curved your mouth back into a smile, and Jack was transfixed.

And he realized then that he should have put two and two together sooner; the excitement in your eyes when he mentioned archery, the bow you’d obtained that suited you perfectly, the way you held it like it was a part of you. Good thing I've got you to teach me, you'd said. As if you needed him to teach you a damn thing. He realized it as you turned to him, your quiver of twelve empty. Not even the wind had kept your arrows from hitting their mark, and all Krauser could do was stare at you like you were a sunrise. 

“So?” you grinned, sauntering over to him, winding your arms around him. Trapping him against you with the bow. “Still think I wasn’t paying attention?” 

His hands found their way to your hips and Krauser just shook his head, scoffing. “I think you dragged me out here to show off, that’s what I think.” His attempt at sounding annoyed fell short, and you knew it. 

“Not true,” you insisted, leaning your face towards his, and god did he love the way your lips brushed his. “It was also an excuse to do something you like. I mean . . . and to get your arms around me.” 

What the hell had he done to deserve someone like you? That was the thought that hit him like a flashbang, leaving you as the only clear thing he saw. And if you were the only thing left in the world to him, there was only one thing to do. He pulled you the rest of the way, his mouth meeting yours fully. He relished the sound of your laugh, muffled by the kiss. In the way your lips moved against him, familiar and welcome in a way he’d never thought to experience. He’d had partners in the past, but nothing like this; no one like you. 

Because there was no one like you in all the world. 

“I fuckin’ love you.” 

The words were rough and spoken without warning - but that was often Krauser’s way. It wasn’t the way he’d planned to tell you. Not that he’d really planned on speaking the words just yet, but you’d hit the mark in every way. So he voiced his declaration against your lips and couldn’t help but smirk as you pulled away to look at him with wide eyes. 

He’d managed to surprise you for a change. 

“That a problem?” he asked, still grinning as he tightened his arms around you. 

You searched his eyes, like you were looking for a sign that he was bluffing. You’d find nothing but certainty, though. “God, no! I just . . . didn’t expect you to say it so soon, that’s all. Didn’t expect you to say it . . . at all, honestly,” you admitted after a moment. He hadn’t expected it, either. But he’d known for a long time, now. He’d known in those moments when he’d wake in the morning and find you beside him in bed, catching up on the sleep you missed out on trying to bring him a few moments of peace. He knew it in the moments when your stupid jokes managed to make him laugh, despite himself. He knew it in the quiet of your company and the steadiness of your affection. Even if you hadn’t thought to expect that of him, he’d felt it for a long time. 

So, as he took in your surprise, Jack just shrugged. “I didn’t expect you to be an archer. Guess we were both holding out on each other.” 

A little laugh from you, and then you were leaning back in, not willing to be on uneven footing. “Well, in that case . . . I love you too.” 

That wasn’t new knowledge to him, either. Even if this was the first time you’d spoken the words. “I know,” he told you, because he just did. You told him every day in actions, if not in words. 

More kisses, more moments where Jack couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten here. More moments where he decided it didn’t matter. He’d dedicated his life to his service - he could be selfish and love you now. 

“So,” you said when you finally parted, your eyes sparkling, the wind filling the empty space between the two of you, “wanna show me how military marksmanship measures up against a two-time archery champion?” 

“Two-time, huh?” Krauser grinned, giving you a sharp smile as you offered up your challenge. “That’s cute.” 

You didn’t back down, not even bristling at his words. You just tilted your head with a smirk and a raised brow. “You wanna talk trash? Or show me what you’ve got?” 

His grin only widened. “Alright,” he said, releasing you. “Bring it, sweetheart.” 

Masterlist

[rollinouttahere-writes]

You know how I said a couple of hours ago that I didn't feel like writing for live action one piece? Yeah, um, I may have gone back on my word a little bit... Here's a drabble of Lucky interacting with Mihawk like I mentioned here

Mihawk wasn’t completely sure what to expect from the task Garp had given him. The mission was most certainly beneath him, but it was unlike the vice admiral to order around any warlord, much less send someone of his caliber to fetch a pirate without so much as a bounty.

At the very least, he wanted this miniscule chore to be mildly interesting. 

Lucky for him, his hopes were not only met, but exceeded. Not because of the rookie pirate he’d been sent after. Not even entirely because of the swordsman that had the confidence to challenge him, though that was intriguing in its own right.

No, what really made this worth it was the enraged woman that was presently yelling at him for engaging in a fair duel. Truly, this was not something he saw everyday. 

“And what do you mean, ‘you can’t die here, grow stronger and face me again’?! How is he supposed to do that when he’s just been cut in half?!” The woman, despite having just witnessed the fight, had the nerve to storm right up to him and get in his face.

“Lucky! Shut up and get back here!” Nami was pale as a ghost and visibly torn between tending to Zoro and stopping you from whatever it was that you believed you were accomplishing here.

Nami’s pleas fell on deaf ears, as you were too worked up to even acknowledge her. Rather than that, you took a step closer to Mihawk and poked his chest aggressively as you continued to give him a piece of your mind, “I mean seriously, look at him! How is anyone supposed to survive that, much less improve after?!”

Violent coughing forced your tirade to come to a stop, and your head snapped around to look at Zoro. His chest was heaving with each breath, sending even more blood squirting out of the wound. Nami tried to hold him down, but he propped his head up enough to look you in the eyes. His own were filled with desperation and intensity, “You need to stop.” He hacked out more blood, “I asked for this and got what I deserved, it was an honorable fight. Please… stop talking.”

Foolishly, Mihawk expected you to be moved by your comrade’s words and calm down, however bitterly. Instead, this only redirected your anger, “No, you stop talking! As soon as I’m done with this guy, you’re next!”

“Oh my, such a fearsome threat. You should be careful, lest you fall victim to her wrath as well,” every word out of Mihawk’s mouth dripped with sarcasm. 

Said sarcasm did not go over your head. You whirled back around to face him, the daggers in your eyes more dangerous than Zoro’s attempt to fight moments before. Your hands shot out to grasp onto his coat, “You stay out of this! I bet you think you’re just so damn cool for this, don’t you?!”

“Why yes, I do. How kind of you to notice,” Mihawk smirked down at you, and it only grew upon seeing your eye twitch and a vein in your head throb.

You shoved off of him, because you definitely couldn’t shove him away. Your shaking hand drifted towards the urumi around your waist, “I’ll take you out myself.”

Suddenly, you were rushed by both Nami and Usopp. Each grabbing an arm and pulling you away.

“Hey, crazy idea, how about you stop talking before you end up like Zoro?” Usopp suggested frantically, looking back and forth between you and the warlord.

“Oh, no worries. I could never bring myself to punch down enough to do that,” Mihakw cut in, staring straight into your furious eyes.

“You mother fu-” the venom in your voice only served to make him grin more. Unfortunately, Nami slapped a hand over your mouth to keep you from saying more. A pity, really. This was finally getting good.

“If you don’t shut up so help me, I will knock you out myself!” Nami hissed into your ear. You didn’t calm down at all and continued screeching at Mihawk from behind her hand. Oh how he wished he could understand what was being said.

Zoro’s head fell back onto the ground with a quiet thud, and he dragged a hand down his face, “I hope this kills me.”

As much as he was anticipating facing Zoro again someday once he’s had a chance to become a truly worthy opponent, he was looking forward to seeing you again more. It’s not often that he felt so alive from something other than fighting.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

i uh.. i’m sorta scared to request cus u feel like a celeb with how damn good your writing is😭 anywaysss a super sad soda oneshot would literally make my day please ahahaaa

Hi lovely! That's so sweet of you to say, thank you for your request. i hope this lives up to expectations lol, its based off this line from canon:

"The only noise was the nurse's soft footsteps and Soda's light breathing. Darry looked down at him and grinned half-heartedly. "He didn't get much sleep this week," he said softly. "He hardly slept at all." "Hhhmmmm," Soda said drowsily, "you didn't either.""

****************************

Sodapop had never much liked church.

He’d always had trouble sitting still, and when he was little spending two hours sitting still and listening to a sermon he could hardly understand was like torture. As he got older, sitting still never became any easier, now matter how hard he tried, and the leniency afforded to a squirming child wore thin once he was about eight. But church had been important to mom, and anything that was important to mom was important to dad too. Darry had hated church as much as he did, always too practical to put much faith in it.

“How am I supposed to not believe in Santa but believe there's a man in the sky watching over me?” Darry had asked dad one day when mom was in the kitchen making sandwiches for the church picnic. Dad had taken him and Darry aside then and explained that their thoughts were their own and they could think them all they wanted, but that church was about more than the preachers stories and prayers to God, that it was about community and helping people and learning to dress nice and act properly, so they would all have to keep going. That had sated Darry, ever the dutiful son, and he’d gone in good spirits and kept his disbelief to himself further such that mom and Ponyboy- who’d been fascinated by the stories ever since he could start to understand them- who believed in God wholeheartedly wouldn’t overhear him.

Soda hadn’t been too sure for a while whether he believed in God or not. He’d spent more time focusing on trying not to squirm too much under mom’s glare to puzzle out his thoughts on the universe, and when he was outside of church he was much more focused on fooling around town with Steve than he was thinking about God. He figured it best to leave such thinking to smart folks like Darry or deep folks like Ponyboy, or even pious folks like mom, than for someone dumb like him to think over it. Chances were, no matter how hard he tried to puzzle it out, he’d get it wrong. He tended to get a lot of things wrong. He’d gotten most of his math test wrong the week before, and he was already failing english. So yeah, better leave such thoughts to people who could actually figure it out. It didn’t matter anyway. He still went to church either way, still listened to mom’s scolding after each sermon, and then promptly washed his hands of the whole mess until the next sunday morning.

Then mom and dad had died and they’d stopped going to church. Well, he and Darry had. Pony still went, though whether it was because he still believed or because he felt closer to mom doing it Soda wasn’t sure and he hadn’t dared ask, not when Pony had been in such a fragile state, hardly speaking for months. Truth be told, it had scared him something awful. It had scared Darry too.

Still, much as he hadn’t liked church there were some things he remembered vividly. He remembered the hard bench under his knees when they knelt to pray. He remembered the times mom had dragged him to confession after he and Steve had done something particularly bad, and he remembered the stories. In particular, he remembered the stories of purgatory, of the inbetween, of waiting for heaven or hell, being stuck between salvation and damnation. Mom had always been terrified of purgatory, always abhorred the thought, seemed more averse to it than the idea of hell. Soda hadn’t understood. He’d rather be stuck between life and death than stuck in a pit of fire being tortured forever. When he’d said as much mom’s eyes had filled with shadows.

“Waiting can be it’s own kind of torture, dearest.”

He hadn’t understood then. For all his trouble sitting still, he’d still thought snakes and fire and pain had to be worse than waiting for something- even salvation.

Now though, he’s starting to understand. 

Ponyboy and Johnny have been missing for almost three days, and Sodapop is starting to lose his mind. Here he is, helpless, unable to do anything to find them, to help them, unable to do anything but wait. 

Per usual, mom was right. This is torture. 

He is not used to being unable to do something. Usually he does everything, anything, all the time. Together, he and Steve are a whirlwind, both unable to stop moving for more than a minute at a time, a wild, reckless, fun loving, unstoppable force. But he can’t find a kid brother who doesn’t want to be found, can’t search for a kid who left no clues- and even beating the shit out of Dallas hadn’t made the hood tell him where the kids went. Even though he knows Dally knows.

So all he can do is wait. Darry is in a similar state to him, unable to do anything and horrified by it, but Soda is still so mad at him he can hardly find it in himself to care. He knows Darry didn't mean to hit Ponyboy, just like he knows Pony didn’t mean to be late for curfew- but he still did it, and now Pony is missing. Their fourteen year old kid brother, who loves books and movies and doing dumb shit with Johnny, who is tough but not mean enough to properly defend himself, is missing. 

Shit. How did his life come to this? A year ago all his biggest worries were passing English and trying to get Sandy to go out with him. Now, he’s got dead parents and a missing kid brother and a girlfriend who's been so cagey recently he knows something is wrong even if she won’t tell him what.

Darry is in the recliner, reading the newspaper but he’s been reading it for the past three hours and hasn’t turned the page even once. Soda is on the couch, knee bouncing, not doing anything at all. The clock on the wall ticks methodically, mocking him. The face reads 12:37. This will be the third night Pony has been gone. Soda can’t help but wonder where he’s sleeping, if he’s warm enough, if he’s scared. His nightmares are bad enough when he’s home. What if he has one while he’s away? Sure, Johnny’ll take care of him, but he doesn’t know how, not really, not like Soda does. Johnny doesn’t know that Pony will need him to look away for a minute while he wipes his eyes, and then need to talk for a few minutes before he goes back to sleep. Johnny won’t know he needs someone to stroke his hair to calm him down, but that he’d never in a million years ask for it.

The clock ticks, the minute hand creeping closer and closer to the top of the clock. Soon, it will be once in the morning, just five hours before his opening shift at the DX. He should get some sleep, he knows, but he can’t face that room, that empty bed where his baby brother should be, safe and warm, not out somewhere in the cold. He can’t shut his eyes on the couch either, not when sleeping could mean missing the moment Ponyboy calls or walks through the door. So he sits, knee bouncing, and he waits, his other brother holding his own vigil in the armchair. They’re united in their terror, pulled apart by anger and remorse, and their salvation is a rusty haired kid running from a crime he didn’t commit, somewhere in the darkness.

Part of Soda is tempted to say that this, the waiting, is the worst thing ever, but then he remembers that after purgatory can be heaven, yes, but it can also be hell, and that is not something he is prepared for right now, or ever again. It was bad enough losing mom and dad. He’d rather spend forever waiting for Ponyboy to come back than to find out something terrible has happened to him.

Still, each second that passes is an eternity, and each minute an infinity without Ponyboy here with them, and the clock mocks him evermore as time passes and nothing happens.

“Do you think,” Darry clears his throat, looking the sort of young he only ever looks this late at night, when Ponyboy is asleep and the gang is gone and he can be Darry instead of Superman, “do you think he’s alright?”

Part of him wants to say nothing, to give him the coldness of silence until Pony is returned to them, to let him suffer for his hand in their brother’s disappearance, but Darry is all he has right now, the only other person on earth who understands, and Soda cannot bring himself to be that cruel.

“Yes.” He says instead, because Ponyboy has to be alright, and he cannot torture himself with thoughts of his personal hell when he is already being tormented living in this purgatory.

Darry nods and goes back to staring blankly at his newspaper. The clock reads 2:13 the next tim he deigns to speak.

“You should get some sleep, little buddy.”

“I can’t.” He tells him honestly, and Darry doesn’t fight him, too tired or too defeated or maybe just too guilty to even try. 

“Yeah,” Darry sighs, “me neither.”

They sit like that, trapped in purgatory, until the sun rises over the horizon. Eventually, Darry rises to go shower, Soda goes to start breakfast, and they begin the fourth day without Ponyboy.

The day passes much like the night, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Pony doesn’t call. He doesn’t come home. Dusk falls, and Soda and Darry take their places in the living room.

Purgatory continues.

They wait.

[bengallemon]

(little experimental piece i did so i could figure out how i want to write isabeau, set some time pre-canon. technically au but its v ambiguous)

---

It’s raining.

The clouds – cumulonimbus, specifically – are coating the sky, an endless torrent falling from them.

Thunder rumbles and lightning strikes at random intervals, sudden lights and sounds coming from all around yo- that’s incorrect. The stimuli comes from above, the reason it feels like it comes from all around you is because your feelings are all over the place and it’s screwing with how you’re perceiving everything that surrounds you.

…

you were never good with storms, were you?

sudden sounds that feel deafening to you, coming with no warning, no way to understand or predict or learn about it because you were too busy being caught in your anxiety.

sudden sounds that feel deafening to you, coming with no warning, no way to understand or predict or learn about it because the schoolkids around you never understood what space or volume was.

or depth and area and circumference and diameter and radius or anything else for that matter.

…

You’re at an inn tonight, thank Change. Being caught in a storm like this on the road would be hell. Well, being in a storm is hell either way, but at least you all got to a secure place of shelter. A place of warmth and comfort and a quiet-enough room you can hide away in and pretend like you’re doing anything but hiding from yourself and this stupid crabbing storm-

You don’t know exactly where you all are, currently. Aside from being in an inn, in a relatively large town. If memory serves you correct (it has to, what else do you have?) your party is…

Somewhere close to the coast, but a lot further down than where you’ve ever been. Even Madame Odile hasn’t been this far down the country, and she’s been all over. (you stayed in the same two crabbing spots in your life)

There’s mountains nearby, that much you know. In all honesty, the lower half of Vaugarde is mostly a mystery to you. You never really got into geography. (you were too busy dealing with yourself)

It might have been a good idea, considering you’re now wandering all about the country with no exact clue where you’re all going. But that doesn’t really matter now. (even though you were never going to say you know anything anyway)

…

…

…

BANG

You stumble, trip and fall face-first onto the bed you’re supposed to be sleeping in tonight.

Crabbing Change you’re a mess today­

The thunder is always a surprise, a stupid damn surprise you’re never prepared for.

Your breaths are too shallow now

You slide off the bed onto the floor.

And cry.

And sigh.

You don’t know when the storm will end. Just that with every clap of thunder your heart stops and starts again, a cycle, an endless, repeating loop of panic and calm and panic and calm and panic and calm and panic and calmandpanicandcalmand-

There’s

something

against

your

cheek.

You think

it’s tears

you’re not supposed

to cry

but-

It’s leather. Cold, unnaturally icy to the touch. It settles against your cheeks and stays still. Firm. Gentle. Cold. You can barely feel anything else. Barely hear anything else.

You open your eyes. You don’t remember closing them.

Your heart is in your throat. You don’t even need to see to know who’s knelt down in front of you. Well, mostly standing, really. Only one of your companions wears leather gloves. Lightless, cool to the touch, roughened over untold years of travelling across more than Vaugarde, simple hand-stitching going around the edges, clearly done by an amateur.

Lightless eyes stare back at you. You’ve never seen them so close to you before. It feels like you’re lost in the night sky, tiny glimmers of something beckoning you further away from yourself, a visual siren’s song to the lost, promising a world away from your woes, red stars dancing in front of you-

It’s Sif staring at you.

Oh Change Sif is staring into your eyes HURRY BLINK LOOK AWAY-

You frantically blink and avert eye contact. You can’t speak. You can barely breathe with how hot your cheeks are getting, despite the leather still pressing against them. You can barely process that they’re speaking to you, static lost against your new flurry of emotions.

You jump and freeze again. Oh. More thunder, apparently. You stare at the hardwood floor you’re sitting on. A rich, dark brown. About the same colour as your eyes, even. How funny. You assume it must be very durable, considering it’s being used as flooring for a multi-story inn being hit with a monster of a storm.

Pretty deep brown, some panels a little lighter than others…

“It’s walnut.”

huh

You blink, looking back up at Sif, who’s blinking back at you. His hands are off your face. When did that happen? You blink again.

“The flooring of this inn’s walnut. Rich dark brown, pretty durable, pretty pricey… it lightens with age.”

17 words in a row from Siffrin? They were reasonably loud, too. Like, the normal volume for someone talking.

“The fact that certain panels in the flooring are lighter means they’re older than the other panels, meaning the darker ones were probably replaced.”

24 more words. Add on the 17 and 2 from before and that would be 33 words in the past minute.

You still can’t find any words. They’re standing fully now, looking on you from above, like an an- like a perfectly normal human being who just so happens to be above you currently, crabbing Change Isabeau-

Siffrin is staring at you, blinking. You blink back.

“… you feeling better?”

His voice is quiet again. It feels… musical, almost. A lyre being played in the surf, the tinkling of chimes in the salty air. The songs of the seabirds flying in, the people talking as they gather amongst the market stalls, looking over catches of fish and seafood, the shade away from the scorching sun.

Darkless hair weaved into waves, fluttering about in the coastal winds.

…

You’ve… never properly been to the coast. And you’ve never seen young people with darkless hair. That only happens with much older people.

“Isa.”

Oh right. Sif asked if you were feeling better.

You try to open your mouth and speak, but only a garbled mess of sound comes out. Your cheeks grow warmer, now with the embarrassment of fumbling your words in front of Siffrin. Good job, Isabeau. You’ve done a terrible job.

They turn to the side briefly, a gloved hand raising up to cover their mouth. A cough, maybe? It is cold and wet after all, and they were running through it for a little while before finding their current lodging.

He turns back to you and offers a hand.

“Get up and sit on the bed, at least. Hardwood floors aren’t that comfy.”

You get up. Your bones creak, even though you’re only twenty-four and in good shape. Insulting.

Siffrin does the maybe-cough thing again. You should check if they’re sick, later.

You sit on the bed. It’s comfortable. More comfortable than the walnut flooring. You can call it that, now that you know the wood. You should ask Sif about different types of wood sometime later, since they seem to know a bit about it.

You’re being poked again, in the shoulder this time. You’re tired. It takes a few seconds for you to register what is happening. It takes a few more seconds for you to turn your head, and even more to blink at Sif again.

They sigh, shadows dancing in their eyes.

“Lay down, Isa. Please.”

You blink and do as instructed. You’re… not sure what you’re feeling, aside from exhausted. You haven’t even done anything and you feel like you lifted a hundred kilograms thirty times. That would be a total of three thousand kilograms.

The pillows are cold and soft. You sink into them. You don’t move your legs. You will need to get up again soon, to go downstairs and eat with everyone else.

…

All of whom you’ve been avoiding since you got in.

That’s a problem for future Isabeau. Present Isabeau is currently enjoying the comfy bed he’s laying on, with heavy bones and eyes.

Out of the corner of your vision, you see Sif smile. It’s small, like flower petals in a clear pond of water. He says something you can’t exactly make out, and leaves the room.

Your eyes are heavy.

…

It’s raining. The lightless cumulonimbus clouds coat the sky, torrents raining down.

You’re warm.

It’s nice.

---

trying to understand how i want to write isabeau. he's obviously a smart guy who did a lot of studying, and he has the best emotional intelligence of the party (mira is second), but considering he was such a shy kid i pulled on my experiences as "the shy kid" (i was just autistic and hated people) a little bit.

also headcanon that isa isnt too fond of storms because. loud noises. sudden lights. he likes to know things and he cant exactly know storms. odile is v similar to me in that way.

anyway. ill be back. maybe with more writing. later.

ko-fi for any who want to chuck a couple dollars my way

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 21 - Let's play a game

Satoru swears under his breath. The curse they are currently up against was supposed to be a second grade at best, but it’s a special grade and it fucking talks.

He thinks if he doesn’t kill Yaga when they get back then Suguru most definitely will, going by the absolute fury in his eyes.

“We have to end this, Satoru,” Suguru pants out when Satoru comes to a stop next to him.

The curse is leading them on, Satoru can tell, and the longer they allow that to happen the more dangerous it gets. They are being tired out while the curse is still as strong as it has been and if they keep doing this it only will end badly for them.

“And we will,” Satoru nods, new determination burning in his chest.

They were supposed to go on a date today before this mission interrupted their perfectly planned day and Satoru can’t say that he’s too pleased about that. He hates it when date time gets interrupted.

“Alright then, better get to it,” Suguru decides with a smirk at Satoru and just like that his competitive streak is on.

They should have done this sooner, Satoru thinks, as they intercept the curse at every point because like this it’s almost laughably easy.

Satoru and Suguru really do bring out the best in each other.

The curse seems to notice that something has changed too because its attempts go get to them get more desperate by the minute but for all that it talks and talks and talks, it doesn’t know where to hit at all.

Satoru knows that they have this in the bag with his next attack because by then the curse will be so weakened that Suguru can easily turn it into one of his orbs and that thought is enough to make him that bit faster, to make his aim with red that much more precise.

“Fine,” the curse wheezes out once half of its body is blown off. “Let’s play a game then,” he whispers, leaning towards Satoru so Suguru can’t hear and then Satoru watches how it almost goes willingly when Suguru reaches out to transform it.

Something must be wrong, Satoru thinks but his reaction comes a second too late.

“Wait!” he cries out, just as Suguru swallows the curse down and Satoru is met with wide eyes.

“What? Why? Is something wrong?” he asks and Satoru shrugs.

It’s not as if they can do anything now, because Suguru already absorbed the curse and whatever its game was is either foiled by that fact or will play out and if Satoru mentions what it said to Suguru then he’ll only worry.

And Satoru really doesn’t want that because now that they are done they can finally get back to their date plans.

“Everything is fine, I guess,” he says after a moment and even though Suguru narrows his eyes at him, he eventually shrugs it off when Satoru doesn’t say anything else.

“Can we get back now?” Satoru asks with a sigh, knowing damn well that their take-out has long gone cold back in their dorm rooms but looking forward to spending time with Suguru nonetheless.

“Yeah, sure, that way I can get rid of you faster,” Suguru says, almost absentmindedly and Satoru freezes as soon as he processes the words.

Suguru doesn’t seem to fair much better, going by the surprised look on his face and he belatedly clams a hand over his mouth.

“What?” Satoru asks, his voice faint because he doesn’t understand what’s going on.

“I said, it’s a good idea because that way I can get rid of you faster. You think I enjoy spending all my goddamn time with you? Don’t be ridiculous, Satoru,” Suguru says, and his voice isn’t even mean.

It makes it that much harder to understand what he says but once the words really hit Satoru it almost feels as if a stone is dropping in his stomach.

“Is this—the curse?” Satoru dares to ask, even though it wouldn’t make a difference.

Chances are it’s some kind of technique that forces Suguru to say what he really thinks and in all honesty, Satoru shouldn’t be surprised.

He knew that this was coming eventually. He just thought he’d have more time.

“Okay,” Satoru says with a shaky smile when Suguru nods with huge eyes. “We have to get you to Shoko, so she can check you out.”

“Satoru,” Suguru says but cuts himself off before more words can spill out and Satoru avoids his eyes.

He always knew that Suguru is just too nice to say what’s really on his mind, but he can’t deny that it hurts.

“You’re so annoying,” Suguru says through clenched teeth and the look on his face speaks of pure desperation. “You might be the strongest but what does that even matter when your personality fucking sucks?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Satoru forces himself to says, scratching the back of his head. “It’s hard to get the whole package, huh?”

Maybe if he just plays this off, if he pretends that this doesn’t hurt as much as it does, then he can get through this.

There’s no way they will get through this because Satoru is pretty sure that after today there won’t be a them to speak of anymore but maybe if Satoru pushes all of his feelings away right now, he won’t come out completely shattered at the end.

Here’s to hoping, he bitterly thinks and forces himself to look away when he spots tears in Suguru’s eyes.

Of course Suguru never wanted him to know that; he truly is too good for his own sake and Satoru probably should have never confessed to him in the first place. He thought Suguru has always been pretty good at saying no to him so he dared to risk it, secure in the knowledge that Suguru wouldn’t just go along with it because of who he is, but of course he had to be wrong in that regard, too.

“Satoru, will you please just go?” Suguru presses out, clearly using every ounce of willpower he has to not say whatever truth wants to spill out next and Satoru nods.

“I’ll—teleport back, inform Shoko of what’s happening, so you won’t have to explain anything to her,” Satoru offers and it sees as if his talking is setting Suguru off again, because despite the way he still clenches his mouth shut, words spill out.

“It’s so laughable that you think I could really love you. You’re so goddamn annoying. I’m glad for every second we don’t have to spend together. And the way you can’t keep your mouth shut! It makes me want to punch you so bad.”

“Great,” Satoru mutters, fighting the stinging of his eyes. “Maybe we can ask Yaga for more solo missions once this is over,” he suggests and valiantly pretends that his heart isn’t currently crumbling in his chest.

He thinks he has trouble breathing but in all honesty he is too numb to really notice anything right now.

“I’ll—go then,” he weakly says, and teleports out of there before Suguru can word vomit again.

Shoko startles badly when Satoru lands in her room but he doesn’t care.

All he wants right now is to hide himself away and never come back out because losing Suguru like this feels as if his chest is caving in and he’d really like to have a breakdown about this in peace.

“What the fuck!”

“Suguru is on his way back. The last curse he consumed did something to him, a truth spell or something along those lines,” he tells her and even to his own ears his voice sounds horribly flat.

“What? That’s so rare, and Geto doesn’t shy away to say the truth anyway, so how would you know?”

“Oh, believe me, there’s plenty he doesn’t normally say,” Satoru whispers and can’t help the few tears that spill over.

It seems it catches Shoko completely off guard because her look is absolutely horrified.

“What the hell happened?”

“He was just—very vocal about his feelings for me,” Satoru says, even as he walks towards the door. “I—you can tell him I won’t come to class for a few days, that the message is received. I’ll talk to Yaga too, about the solo missions, so he doesn’t have to worry about that. I won’t—tell him I get it. I won’t bother him again.”

“That is so fucking wrong, I don’t even know where to start,” Shoko whispers and Satoru gives her a court nod.

“Thanks for taking care of him.”

He slips out of her room, not looking back, not looking around to see if Suguru is already close and once he’s in his room, he simply—stops.

His head is a mess and his heart is in shambles and it feels an awful lot as if his spirit is broken and for a moment Satoru can do nothing but force himself to breathe. His thoughts are screaming at him in rage, his heart is screaming at him in pain and the contradicting feelings make him feel sick to his stomach.

If he has to throw up now, he’ll cry his eyes out, he just knows it, so he swallows everything back and then sits down on the bed.

Satoru feels almost brittle, as if too much movement could break him apart into a thousand pieces at any moment, but sitting at the edge of his bed is good. He can do that.

He can do that until he has to pick himself back up again and go out there, and maybe he’ll piece himself back together wrong but who cares, right?

As long as he functions, as long as he can still be useful, can still be the strongest it doesn’t matter one bit.

Satoru doesn’t know how long he spends like that on his bed but by the time the door to his room flies open it’s already dark out and Satoru feels stiff like a statue. He barely manages to get his eyes to focus and it doesn’t help at all when he realises that it’s Suguru who is standing in his room, chest heaving with how fast he must have run here.

“I—this is my room,” Satoru says, voice completely devoid of inflection. “You can’t tell me to get lost from here.”

“I love you,” Suguru blurts out and crosses the room in three huge strides. “Fuck, Satoru, I love you and I am so, so sorry, I didn’t know,” he almost cries out and Satoru is too surprised to do anything.

He didn’t think Suguru would go back to lying to him.

“It’s okay,” Satoru forces himself to say. “You don’t have to do this. I get it. It’s fine. You can—I’m not mad, or anything.”

“But you should be, gods, you should be, Satoru. Shoko said you think this is some kind of technique that makes me say the truth, so you should really definitely be fucking furious with me if you think I would lie to you like that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispers, because nothing matters anymore and he wheezes when Suguru hugs him even tighter.

“It wasn’t a truth thing,” he finally says and it’s a good thing Satoru is already mostly motionless because that would have made him freeze again.

“Yes, it was.”

“No. It made me say what you were most afraid of hearing,” Suguru says and Satoru wonders why he’s doing this.

He already cut all ties between them, what reason could he possibly have to lie now?

“I know you don’t believe me, but now that the effect has worn off, I can use the curse to do the same to other people,” Suguru whispers and hides his face in Satoru’s neck. “So—I want to use it on you, so you understand that nothing what I said is what I truly feel.”

“Suguru—” he cuts himself off because with what was said, he doesn’t think he has the right to call him that, so Satoru tries again. “Geto.” The name sounds stiff and wrong in his mouth and Satoru almost feels bad for the way it makes Suguru flinch. “It’s okay. We’ll just—not. Not anything, you know. Not talk, not see each other, it’s fine.”

“It’s fucking not!” Suguru suddenly yells out, his voice wet with tears. “You don’t get a say in this. I’m sorry, Satoru, but I’m using that technique on you.”

He pulls away, a determined look on his face and before Satoru can say something else he feels Suguru’s cursed energy spike before it settles over him.

And just like that he can’t keep his mouth shut anymore, words being torn from his throat.

“You’re such a boring, righteous person. You think anyone wants to be around you with that judging look and your flat personality? Grow a character. And you think you have any right to stand besides me? You’re nothing compared to me and I don’t need you. I don’t even want you around because you’re just holding me back. You’re just like everyone else and it’s really laughable for you to think that you will ever be anything but average.”

Satoru’s hand flies to his mouth, but it’s too late already, the words are already out there and just like that, Suguru’s cursed energy fizzles out into nothing.

Suguru works his jaw a few times, before a determined look settles over his face.

“There,” he almost spits out. “Was that the truth you said just now?” he demands to know and even though he tries to look stern, Satoru spots the minute shaking of his voice.

“No,” Satoru immediately cries out. “It felt as if the words were pulled out of me, but I have no idea where they came from.”

“It’s what I’m afraid of hearing from you,” Suguru admits and even though it’s clearly not easy for him, he meets Satoru’s eyes.

“And what I said is what you’re afraid of hearing from me. There’s no truth to these words. The curse is just preying on our insecurities.”

Satoru opens the mouth to argue with him about that, because surely there must be some truth to what Suguru had said to him but he remembers how it felt, to have that cursed technique on him and he realises that Suguru is right.

There was no truth in any of the words Satoru just said; those words weren’t even things he has ever thought before, not once in the time he has known Suguru, and if that is true for him, then the same must be true for Suguru, right?

“I don’t think any of those things,” Satoru says, because he feels as if he should and Suguru gives him a shaky smile.

“And I don’t think any of the things I said to you before either. I love you, Satoru, personality and non-stop running mouth and all. I really do. I never want to be parted from you.”

“You’re not average,” Satoru immediately gives back because the thought that Suguru could really think that about himself is unbelievable to him. “You’re incredible and wonderful and you’re not holding me back and everyone loves you and finds you approachable because you are a wonderful human!”

“Okay,” Suguru says, his eyes a bit watery.

“I’m so sorry I believed you would say these things to me,” Satoru cries out because what if he damaged the trust between them now by easily believing what Suguru said?

“Please tell me we’re not about to develop another issue between us,” Suguru sighs out. “I can’t take anymore, this was already taxing enough.”

“But—”

“Satoru, the technique is specifically designed for me to say what you fear to hear the most from me. Of course you’d believe it, because it’s what you already believe deep down. The same goes for me. I would have believed you in a heartbeat if you said any of that because I am so afraid that it’s true. It doesn’t have anything to do with trust. I know you trust me. I know you love me. And I feel the same.”

Satoru takes a moment to digest that and figures Suguru is probably right. He has to be, because Satoru thinks he can’t take it if he isn’t.

He already lost Suguru once today—however fabricated and forced that was—and he doesn’t think he can do it again. Not today and not ever.

“I am really, really tired,” Satoru says and leans forward, falling into Suguru’s arms.

“I am, too,” he agrees. “Date night is kind of ruined, but is a cuddle session still on the table?” he asks and immediately Satoru’s hands shoot out to grab Suguru’s shirt.

“You’re not leaving my sight today,” he decides and Suguru nods.

“Then lets get to bed, alright?”

Satoru easily slides under the cover, not daring to let go of Suguru in fear of him running out on him, but Suguru is right behind him and soon enough they are curled up together.

“We’ll have to talk about this again,” Suguru mutters into the space between them. “I don’t like how you think any of what I said could be real. I hate that you think it could be true.”

Satoru really doesn’t want to hear that right now, but he gets where Suguru is coming from because knowing that Suguru thinks so lowly of himself, hurts him in ways he wasn’t prepared for.

“Same,” he gives back which makes Suguru smile. “But not today.”

“Hell no,” Suguru immediately agrees and pulls Satoru closer. “Today we only do this.”

Satoru snuggles into Suguru, scooting as close as he can and he sighs when he is finally able to hear Suguru’s heartbeat.

Today was horrible and under no circumstances does he ever want to do it again, but he has to admit that the end is kind of okay.

Suguru is back in his arms and they will just have to work harder on believing that the other is exactly where he wants to be. But they will do that together, too.

[darksigns-exe]

Sweet Like Honey - Secrets I Have Held

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of infidelity Word Count: 2.7 k Note: I wanted you to have both sides of the story. This is Noah's side of To Be Caught Adrift.

Read on AO3

Noah shouldn’t have picked up the phone in the first place. Her name on the screen should have been enough of an indicator for him to just throw the damn thing out of the window. But no. Like the damn fool he was, he’d picked it up, answered the call and listened to her excuses. Vic’s honeyed words had wrapped around his mind, and he’d almost agreed to see her again. 

Almost. 

This wasn’t the first time, either. She’d called the week before as well, had texted in between. Noah knew what he had seen. The image had burned itself into his brain. The writhing bodies on top of his bed were a near-permanent fixture of his sleeping hours now. He tries to bury it beneath the excitement for the tour, but then she texts him again, and it’s all he can think about again. 

It hadn’t been just bad. When they were good, they were really good. Was it love? In retrospect, he wasn’t so sure any more. They’d been more fast and loose than he would have liked, but as far as he’d been aware they were exclusive. Obviously, she’d seen that a little differently. He tries to count his losses and tally them up against the good things that’ll wait for him up the road. Emphasis on trying because he’s only moderately successful with it. They’ll be going on tour, the biggest one to date, the album is selling well, people love it. There isn’t a lot more than he could ask for. 

But that doesn’t stop him from wanting more. It’s a little selfish because he’s only met Bee once, but he can’t stop thinking about how easy those few hours had felt. He wants to learn all of her secrets, understand every furrow of her brow and how to undo it. It’s a little stupid because Noah doesn’t know a whole lot about her, but what he knows is already enough to have him running after her like a lovesick puppy. 

He doesn’t know what it is about this girl, but in the brief time they’d spent together, she’d managed to worm her way into his thoughts like nothing else. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries not to think about it, she always finds her way back — Nick and Tasha certainly don’t help when they talk about her. 

It's a welcomed distraction. He’d rather think about the pretty girl with her big ideas than whatever had happened in his bedroom. Maybe that’s why he keeps coming back to it. If she’d at least had the decency to fuck that other guy in her own home, maybe he’d be able to get over it already. But what kind of person do you have to be to cheat on your partner in their bed in a house that you don’t live in? 

Noah finally forces himself out of the studio in the back of the house and up the stairs. Thankfully, neither Nick nor Mari comment on his sudden appearance when he passes by them in the living room. Although, Mari gives him that look she’d thrown his way a few times. Thinly veiled pity and that even less veiled distaste for his ex. In a way, he was glad that Mari hadn’t been here when he’d found out.

He strips the bed down to its barest bones. If he washes it again, maybe it’ll go away this time. 

He passes the time until the washing machine is done, scrolling through his phone. A day-old picture of Nick, Mari, Tash and her follows some band's tour announcement. 

They’d been down at the beach, Nick looking more displeased than the girls to be out in the sun like that, but they seemed to be having a good time. Noah faintly remembers Nick asking him if he’d want to come with them. If he’d known that she’d be there, maybe he’d come — not that he doesn’t want to spend time with his friends, but sometimes he can’t quiet the voice in the back of his mind that keeps him inside. 

Noah taps the screen to see who is tagged in the picture. To his luck, Tasha is very diligent about this and three little name bubbles pop up on the screen. He easily recognises Nick and Maris’ usernames. The third one is a new. 

lisbethsander

It’s right there, hovering above her head. It feels a little invasive, even though her profile is public, and he’s friends with her friends, so really why shouldn’t he. A lot of the pictures of her profile seem to be of her research, with ones of friends, her cat and the odd vinyl record scattered in between them. There are places he has never heard of that she talks about with so much passion. Ruined remnants of things at surely were impressive at some point – not that they’re not impressive now. Some of it he can piece together, but a lot of it just flies right above his head. 

Lisbeth Sander.

He rolls the name around his mind for a while. It suits her. 

Finding her name like this feels a little odd, though. It feels as if he’s invading her privacy in some way. The longer he scrolls through her posts, the more he feels as if he’s gaining, at least, a little bit of an insight into her life. He finds a video of when she got a tattoo from Tasha, they’re laughing, singing along so poorly to the song playing over the sound system. Whenever the camera catches a glimpse of her, his chest feels that little bit tighter. 

He doesn’t know why he feels so hesitant. They got along well, she’s friends with his friends. It wouldn’t be weird if he would follow her. 

Vic hadn’t liked it when he’d spent time with other women. Tasha had rarely been over while they were together, and Mari had a very clear stance on the woman from the moment they’d met for the first time. 

That should have been enough of a sign. 

He taps the button before he can change his mind and tosses his phone onto the desk. 

Sometimes the voice in his head still sounds a little like Vic. It’s an awful, demanding thing. Maybe it had been just bad. Maybe the good had been the bits he had filled on his own. 

She’d been the one to ruin it, he tells himself. No matter how unapproachable he might have been at certain points during their stint, none of it justified fucking a shared friend in his bed. 

By the time he has dressed the bed again, it’s almost five. Nick had informed him at some point that most of them would head out for a couple of drinks later, which Noah had politely declined. Now that he’s alone in the house, he thinks that he should have gone with them. Maybe the distraction would have been good for him. They always go to the same place, so really there’s nothing stopping him from just joining the rest. The drive isn’t too long. 

He has to park a bit away from the bar. It is the middle of the week, but the place is usually packed. The campus isn’t too far from here either, so he figures that a lot of them will pile into the local bars as well, regardless of the weekday. Noah briefly wonders if Bee comes here sometimes. He’s never seen her when they go, maybe she’s not one for bars. 

The walk isn’t too bad. The air isn’t fresh, but it still feels good to not be cooped up inside for once. It’s starting to get really dark when he reaches the building. The light inside pours out onto the street. And he finds himself stuck in his tracks in front of the large window.

He watches the group — his group. He finds her almost immediately. She’s sitting between Tasha and Jolly. The latter has her wrapped up in a conversation about god knows what. For a brief moment, he feels like an outsider, like he doesn’t belong in there with the rest of them. It clutches at his chest, threatens to burrow itself back into the marrow of his bones. 

But the feeling quickly develops into something warmer. They’re all in there, the whole lot of them. Everyone he holds dear is gathered in one place. He tries not to let himself believe that they’re having a good time because isn’t there, that the laughter would still be there if he was in there with them. 

His eyes find Bee once again. The last time he had seen her, he had been too close to take it all in properly. It’s almost like he’s viewing a painting from the proper distance now, instead of standing right in front of it with his nose pressed up against the glass. He wonders if she's even aware of the magnetism she possesses, how people flock around her when she talks with that bright, burning passion. He hasn’t met a lot of people who manage to draw in crowds like that and still remain likeable enough for him to want to spend time with them. But then there’s Bee and that —

He’s fucked. 

Completely. 

Surely this is just a way for his brain to distract itself from the actual emotions that still mess with his sleep schedule. And even if this is something else, he’s hardly in the position to get involved with someone again. 

He watches as she detaches herself from the group and heads towards the counter for another drink. 

Noah slips into the door before she notices him lingering outside like some kind of creep. Instead of heading to the back to the rest of them, he sidles up next to Bee at the bar. 

“Who do we have here?”

Her head whips around, loose strands of hair falling from that already too loose ponytail. A range of emotions races across her face, and for a second he thinks that the surprise on her face is of the bad kind. 

“Didn’t know that you’d be here.” 

They talk for a while, and it’s just as easy as the first time. He wants to ask so many things. Burning questions that suddenly feel too invasive to ask now that they’re not really alone. It’s wrong, but he wants to keep her secluded to that quiet place where it’s just them, where he’s the only one that gets to listen to her. 

They do eventually join the rest at the back of the bar. He doesn’t miss the look Jolly throws him, but he tries not to think about it. He knows that he has to be careful. The feeling that is growing in his chest could easily turn bitter again. Noah is aware that the wound Vic has left behind in his chest is still too fresh to let someone else in. 

It doesn’t matter how long he tries to deny it. 

The damage is done, and now he has to deal with the fallout of it. 

Noah forces himself out of his thoughts. 

He’s surrounded by friends, if he keeps himself here, maybe he won’t drift back into that headspace. He listens to the stories people share, the jokes they’re telling, and he lets himself enjoy it. It doesn’t fix everything immediately, but it takes away some of the ache. He feels a little bit warmer, a little less caged in. 

The warmth rises further when he feels a set of eyes bore into him. Across from him, Bee seems to be entirely narrowed in on him. She stares – unblinkingly – for a little moment longer before her focus breaks and her cheeks turn bright pink. The brief trace of embarrassment dissipates quickly. She looks so awfully caught and – 

He knows the look her face devolves into.

Noah pushes himself up from the sofa he has sunk into. He stops by the armchair Bee is placed in “I’m getting more drinks, coming with?” 

She blinks up at him a few times before following him. 

He heads straight towards the far end of the counter, that so far is still empty. 

“What —”

“I know that look.” he tries to convey a sense of calm, “You don’t have to explain it.” 

Instead of the drinks he said he’d get, he orders a glass of water, the rest of them can wait. 

“This isn’t for you, huh?” he takes a look around the somewhat crowded room. 

They’d had this talk before, but he needs her to know that he understands the feeling that clutches at her. 

“Just a bad day.” 

Noah has used that same excuse often enough to know that this isn’t just a bad day. But he won’t pry, if she wants to share she will. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’m glad you came.” 

He doesn’t miss the little smile on her face. 

Noah watches as she downs most of her water in one go. He wants to ask how her week has been, if she’d thought about them as much as he had, but if he lets himself indulge in this feeling he runs the risk of either of them getting hurt. 

“I still have your sweater.” she says quietly. 

“Oh?”

He’d hardly thought about anything else. 

“I can go get it. My place isn’t too far from here.” 

The words are so rushed that he almost thinks that she’s trying to get rid of it. But with the way her fingers prick at the skin of her palm, he’s sure that it’s just nerves. 

“You really don’t have to.” 

“I wasn’t going to stay that long anyway. I have to work tomorrow, and I’ve already had a long day.” 

It’s adorable, he has to admit that. She’s trying so hard not to be a burden, not to be a cause for disruption when he wants nothing else. 

And worst of all, he doesn’t want her to go just yet. 

“I can walk you home.” he offers instead. 

It’s a two-in-one deal, really. He’ll get to be around her for a moment longer and maybe if he plays his cards right, he can get his hands on her number. 

She really doesn’t live too far from the bar. It’s just a short and sweet ten-minute walk before she stops in front of an older, multi-story building.��

“This is me.” She says, fishing a clunky set of keys from her back, “I’ll just pop upstairs and get the sweater.”

Noah gathers his wits. It’s not as if he hasn’t practised the line the entire way here.

“How about this…how about instead of that sweater you just give me your number, and we call it even?” 

It still comes out a little shakier than he had hoped. 

“You don’t want that back?” 

“Keep it. It looked good on you.” 

Her eyes find the ground in a futile attempt to hide the flush of her cheeks. She takes the phone from his hand anyway. Noah keeps his eyes trained on her while she types her number into it. 

He could watch her for hours. 

Their goodbyes are brief, but Noah waits until a light upstairs flicks on. Before he leaves, he snaps an admittedly dumb picture of himself and sends it to her. It’s easier than the words he wants to say. It’s still too tender. He doesn’t even know if she’d want him like that. 

Noah doesn’t go back to the bar, instead he takes the long route home. He values the company of his friends, but right now he needs the silence. He doesn’t know if he needs time to think or shut his brain off entirely. Neither option sounds like the best right now. 

He trots up the stairs and finds his way into his bedroom. Noah lets himself sink into the mattress of his bed. He lies in the silence for a while. It should feel bad to put Vic behind him so quickly. She made it easy, though. There’s no coming back from that. Even if it turns out that Bee isn’t interested in him after all, he needs to get over this mess, for his own sake. The tour will help, he’s sure of that, if anything it’ll take his mind off of it. 

When he picks up his phone to text Nick that he has gone back home, there’s a reply from Bee. A picture of her in the hoodie, the hood pulled up over her head and half of her face hidden behind her fingers. 

And wishes that it wouldn’t make him feel inside as warm as it does. 

[go-go-devil]

@silenthillmutual I think about this constantly... So much so that I'm gonna make this its own tagged post since I have so much to say about it!

Although Patches calls him a "complete idiot" I don't believe the betrayal had to do with Solaire falling for any false promises of treasure, since he doesn't come across as someone who would even care about something so trivial. The idiot remark probably comes instead from him finding Solaire's whole quest to find his very own sun a fruitless venture due to not understanding what exactly he means by it.

What he could've done to break the trust of someone as kind and considerate as Solaire must've been more personal. Maybe he said one too many disparaging things about how useless the man's quest was before Solaire finally got angry with him, or maybe Solaire's intense faith and devotion to his sun somehow triggered Patches's religious trauma and he attacked him out of mistaken idea that he was a cleric.

Whatever it was it could certainly be chalked up to Patches pushing himself away from Solaire and believing it was the sensible thing for him to do. A noble thief like himself has better things to do than stick around some sunbathing lunatic, eh?

But the thing that keeps me up at night is that Patches has no friends. He's a scoundrel disliked by all who meet him and who keeps himself as far away from everyone else as he can when he returns to Firelink Shrine, and yet he is the ONLY ONE in the whole goddamn game who encourages you to keep close to Solaire!

He has an inkling that his quest may very end badly, so he tells the only other person he trusts (the Chosen Undead) some vague gossip about him because his pride is too great to make him admit outright that he still cares for that damn warrior of sunlight! Because even though he's dedicated himself to living only for himself he knows that YOU might be able to do something about it and help keep Solaire alive for even just a little bit longer!

Patches is very keen at recognizing evil within people, particularly when it comes to their greed, but I think too many fans overlook that such an ability may also allow him to see the clear signs of good within others as well ☀️

[rorywritesalot]

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived.

Prologue: Welcome to Pandora

Warnings: cursing

Ensley's POV

When you’re 20 years old, you’re usually in college, or moving out of your parents house or whatever. Not me! No, I’m on a different planet to learn more about the wildlife and the natives. I like to think that I’m pretty lucky. I get to do what I love and be mentored by the best of the best, Dr. Grace Augustine. I arrived on Pandora just after I turned 18. I’m the first of the Sully siblings to be here. My brother Tom is supposed to join me here soon. I haven’t seen my family in two long years. I miss my parents and above all, I miss my big brothers. They are only a little over a year older than me. Our parents loved to say that I was a perfect mix of both Jake and Tom. I had the wit and humor of Jake and the smarts and curiosity of Tom. Jake and I were the troublemaking duo. We would taunt the kids of the neighborhood and play pranks on our family. Tom was the brother I could seek out for guidance. He and I could sit and talk about theories forever. It was him who got me extremely interested in the Avatar Program and I studied as hard as I could in order to be considered for the program. Growing up, they were the perfect brothers. They still are. 

When I started my process to get my own avatar, there were some complications with my DNA and it was denied. So I do not have an avatar. My brother Tom does, and he’s here waiting for Tom’s arrival. I work directly under Grace kind of as her right hand. I will be honest, I thought Grace hated me when I first showed up here. She probably did because I was so young and she “didn’t want to be a babysitter”, and I quote. Once she realized what I could do, she started to come around. Since my arrival, Grace has taught me so much and helped me grow as a scientist. She has taken me under her wing and has very much become like a mother figure to me. 

Above all, working with Grace has its perks, but it definitely has its downside. One of those is being her runner. Grace will send me on coffee runs at random hours of the day. She also likes to have me run errands for her too. I get tasked with taking files to Selfridge or sitting in on the boring meetings that she refuses to go to. I didn’t mind running her errands in the end because that was how I met him.

I’ve only ever heard of Colonel Miles Quaritch, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting the well known Head of Security, until now. The first thing I noticed about the man, other than his piercing blue eyes, was the trio of scars on the right side of his head. If the story is true, he was attacked one his very first day on Pandora by a viperwolf, because he decided it was a good idea to go check out the forest. What an idiot. 

On a trip to one of the breakrooms to get Grace her coffee, I space out. My mind is running rampant, thinking of all the things I have to get done that day. In the middle of running down my mental to-do list, I fail to pay attention to how I turn a corner and run right into a muscular chest and take a tumble to the floor, landing flat on my ass.

“Geez, you need to watch where you’re going cupcake. You okay?” The man says as he reaches down for my hand and hoists me up to my feet. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I guess I was just really out of it.” I say, visibly embarrassed. He lets out a soft laugh.

“It’s fine. Hey, I can’t say I’ve ever met you before. What’s your name?” He flashes his little smirk at me. This man is so devilishly handsome and I think he knows it. With his tan and defined arms, his silver hair and those damn blue eyes. He knows he’s attractive.

“Um, ha, I’m Ensley, Dr. Ensley Sully. I’m a botanist.” I put my hand out for him. He takes it.

“Ah you’re one of those science pukes ain’tcha?” He says, his smirk replaced with a neutral expression. I can’t tell if he now has a sudden distaste for me or something. Since I've been here, I’ve quickly come to understand that the soldier and scientist have never fully seen eye to eye. All because of their different views and since the important people in RDA favor soldiers over scientists. 

“Yeah I am," I say, going into defense mode. "I don’t believe I know your name either.”

“Oh yes, I’m Colonel Quaritch. You might know me as the head of security.” Why, he’s very modest isn’t he. I mentally roll my eyes.

“Well, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” I say and he chuckles. He locks his eyes with my brown ones and he looks almost as if he’s analyzing my face. I feel my confidence cracking under his gaze. Part of me wants to run and hide and another part of me wants to fall to the floor and cry. But I don’t. I stand there until I feel like I’m done with the situation.

“I should probably get going. My boss is probably wondering where I am.” I say as I step around him. He turns his body to keep me in sight. 

“Yes, don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Mhmm, it was nice meeting you.” I say as I turn and continue my trip to the breakroom for Grace’s coffee. As I walk away, I have the feeling that eyes are on me. As I round the corner to the breakroom, I glance back and see the colonel still looking at me. I hesitantly stop and gaze back at him. I softly smile and wave my fingers at him. He subtly nobs and turns to continue to where he was going. 

I turn on the coffee machine so I can make Grace’s drink as well as making a cup of tea for myself. I’m not a big fan of coffee. I hate the bitterness of it as well as the after taste. So I don’t drink caffeine or anything, I just run off of sheer willpower. 

As I’m doing what I’m doing, I think back to the encounter I just had with the colonel. Everyone made him out to be so mean and cold. He didn’t seem that way with me. Maybe everyone only ever met him as the colonel and I just got to meet him as just him. 

I finish making the drinks and I make my way back to the lab. Upon my arrival, I look around to find Grace. I find her hunched over a microscope. I set her mug down by the scope and she shoots her eyes to look at me.

“Jesus E, what took you so goddamn long.” She says, visibly irritated that she had to wait longer for her precious coffee. She takes a sip and looks back at me signaling that she wants to know what happened to me.

“I just ran into someone and I got to talking to them. It's not that big of a deal.” I say turning my back to her and heading to my desk.

“Who did you run into?”

“Fuck Grace, why do you care?”

“I want to know.”

“If I tell you, will you stop pestering me?” I grumble. She nods her head.

“I ran into Quaritch.” I say and Grace's face slightly drops.

“Oh, are you okay? He didn’t give you any shit did he?” She asks and I shake my head. She seems relieved. She and Quaritch have always had it out for each other and couldn’t be in the same room as each other without wanting to bite the other's head off. So I understand why she doesn't want him to give me or any of her scientists shit or anything.

“Okay well, let's get back to work. There are some Mist Blooms I want you to analyze and make some reports about. Okay?” Grace motions to the pile of papers and files sitting on my desk. I take a seat, sip my tea and dive back into my work.

Note: This is my first ever fanfic and I'm so happy to share this with you. Most of my titles are going to be based off Taylor Swift title tracks. So if there are any swifts here, I hope you enjoy that. Chapter 1 will be out soon!

[thatoneweirdo14]

i think the reason vbs surpassing rw already feels anticlimactic (to me) is because its been such a massive thing for them for so long and its just done like THAT

i know in bdtw they say how they actually want to go beyond rw but that was TWO EVENTS AGO. let it marinate, pleaseee. Give them some time to truly understand and contemplate what this extension of their dream means to them, like in on your feet. An especially, it doesn't feel right for her to accept this so fast given all that's happened

Also, storytelling-wise its just not a wise move to make? I'm no story-writing genius but usually when characters have a dream they want to achieve, the majority of the story is build-up to that dream as well as the characters growing in proportion to the story along the way. Before that dream is achieved, however, what happens in the story is that the characters almost reach the goal before crashing back down, going through their biggest low point.

This achieves two things: 1) It allows any plot holes or gaps in the characters' motivations/abilities to be filled in, leaving no room for doubt in the audience's mind and 2) ITS MORE SATISFYING.

Think of it this way, which feels more deserved: a character gets better and better at overcoming obstacles (with a couple outliers they actually can't do) and then crosses the finish line OR a characters gets better and better at overcoming obstacles, TRIPS, considers whether its worth getting back up bc they're likely to lose anyway, see how far they've run, decided that the only way to go is forward, continue running the race, see how much better they've gotten since the beginning then still manage to place top five, feeling more confident about next time.

Notice how the situation where the path to success isn't linear is the more compelling narrative? With the way colopale handled the story, they DONT DO THIS. and its annoying!! I WANT to see them surpass rw and I WANT to enjoy it but I can't do that when it feels like a "main character ends up winning first try!" situation.

It also kinda hurts that their story is more tell instead of show, which already makes it hard to celebrate their progress. Honestly, if they were gonna do this then in LUTF they should've at least made it seem like vbs were close to their goal, maybe make taiga step back a bit like "damn that was actually kinda good wth" or smth idk i need to catch up with the vbs events honestly but i have a good enough idea about them to be able to say this confuses me :"//

There's a reason this story structure has been used over and over and it's because it WORKS. It doesn't matter how much I like the mc and want them to succeed if it doesn't feel warranted I'm still not gonna be able to enjoy it. "vbs is popular the fans will love it no matter what we put out!" no. A bad story can ruin good characters, no matter how much fans love them, and vice versa.

I saw someone say that this event should've been them being told that they're ready to surpass rw, on they're closer than ever to surpassing rw which i feel like, if they didn't wanna go for the depression route, would've been a better direction! Their next arcs could've then been each of them overcoming their own greatest struggles regarding their dream, stuff that's been bothering them since/before main story and how they overcome it now that they're in a place to. THEN we can talk about getting to rw.

I just hope the next vbs event gives some devastating aftermath or side effects or smth to balance it out, and they should probably slow down the story a bit as well from here on out, but that's just my thoughts ://

[soaringeag1e]

Escape {62}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Guilt, Yelling, Emotional

Words: 1,841

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

"I shouldn't have done it." Sam tosses his salad together while listening to his brother continue to beat himself up over what had happened with you. "I knew it. I knew it was going to upset her and I should have just let it go." 

"You need to stop." Dean seems to ignore him as he grabs a lime from the little bowl the waitress gave them and squeezes it over his tacos. "It was a good idea, Dean, and you know damn well that if it were anyone else you would have done the same thing." 

"But that's just the thing, this wasn't someone else. This was Y/N. The woman that I'm going to marry. The same woman that I swore I'd protect from any more harm, and it turns out that I can't even protect her from myself."

"She'll be fine." Sam tries to convince him for the hundredth time. "I'm sure her and Sarah are becoming stress free as we speak. A girls day at the spa should do her good."

"I hope you're right."

-

Sarah was beaming as she watched the woman at her feet do her nails. The color was just as gorgeous as it was on the shelf and she was glad that she went with it. But when she looked over at you to see if you were enjoying yourself, she could tell by the look on your face that your mind was elsewhere and she didn’t need too many guesses as to where that was.

“You know what we should do after this?” she asks with a pep in her voice. You turn to look at her, but say nothing as you wait to hear her idea. “We should get coffee. A nice warm latte sounds really good right now.”

“Okay.” Your reply lacks excitement but what hurts Sarah more is the sadness that lingers over you. Even during your massage your body seemed to fight against its effects. She really thought this would help you relax, but it was looking like a big fail.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” you reply quietly, your eyes focusing on your painted toes though Sarah is convinced that your thoughts haven’t been on this trip to the spa the entire time.

“I really wish you would stop beating yourself up about this, sweetie.”

“How could I not?” you say with an emotional tone. “I should have done the interview.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Sarah stresses, shifting in her chair but careful not to move her feet too much. “Y/N, you did the right thing. You did what was best for you.” 

“But that’s just it, I was being selfish.” you whimper, desperately trying to hold in your emotions. “The man that’s responsible for everything that happened to me and those other girls is still out there and instead of helping capture him…I ran away.” Sarah looks at you with sympathy, wishing like everyone else that she could take away your pain. “What if he hurts someone else? That’s on me.” 

“No. Y/N…no, it isn’t on you.”

“Yes it is! He’s out there, free roaming because I was too chicken to do anything about it.”

“Listen to me,” Sarah begins, her voice firm. “None of this is on you, okay? None of it. Everything that asshole has done is on him and him only, you understand me?” Even when she sees a tear slip from your eye she doesn’t let up on her hard gaze with you. “But either way, this guy is a five star dickbag. He doesn’t do any of the dirty work himself.” she adds before sitting back in her chair, briefly looking to her newly painted toes to see the woman finishing up on her artistic touch.

“Dean thinks he’s the one who was at my house.”

“Well, even so, he doesn’t do anything like that unless he has a fall guy. At least that’s what the guys told me. He had Paul as his fall guy for you and all those other girls and he had Norman back with Cassie, so…” Sarah shakes her head, letting out a sigh as if she was trying to release the vibe this conversation was creating. “I’m sure he’s laying low right now and to find someone you trust enough to do the things he does? That in itself will take time. So, I think it’s safe to say that we don’t have to worry about him hurting anyone for a while.'' She huffs at the end of her sentence and lounges back in her seat as if she’s on a beach somewhere enjoying the sun rays on her skin.

It’s quiet between the two of you, but Sarah doesn’t think anything of it. Now only if she looked over at you at some point would she know that something wasn’t right.

“What did you say?” She wasn’t aware of what was wrong yet, but her stomach still flipped at the tone of your voice. After looking your way, Sarah takes a second to go over everything she just told you, trying to think of what you could be asking of her.

“We don’t have to worry about him doing anything?” she questions, still not sure what she said that’s gotten to you.

“No.” Your head shakes in short, stiff movements and your eyes never leave hers. “No. The thing about Cassie.” It doesn’t register right away, but after she thinks back to what she said and sees the distraught look on your face, it finally comes together.

“Dean didn’t tell you?” It was obvious, but the question came out anyway. 

You were quiet, but Sarah could see there were fires bursting out everywhere in your head. Your breathing became a bit heavier, your eyes were darting around as if you were looking for the closest exit and she honestly was afraid that you were going to get sick.

“I’m sorry. I thought that he told you, I didn’t…” Before she can come up with anything else to say, you slipped from your seat, not caring if your toes were dry or not. “Y/N?” There was no stopping you. You were on a mission and she could see that. “Y/N!” Despite the fact that she spent a good chunk of cash on the spa day and her new painted toes, Sarah quickly jumps out of her chair and rushes after you, cursing under her breath the entire way out of the building.

-

“I saw the pictures of the venue.” As Dean comes out of the kitchen Sam takes the beer that his brother hands him. “Looks nice.”

“It is. That’s all Y/N though. She found it in one of those books she got. Never even knew that place existed.” Popping the top of his bottle, Dean then takes a quick swig before tossing the top on the table.

“Did you know of any of the venues existing?” Sam gets his brother's annoyed glare for making the comment, but it makes him chuckle anyway. 

“Shut up, Sam.” The youngest brother laughs a bit more as the two move into the living room, both taking a seat on the couch. 

“So, what’s the date again? I can’t remember what Sarah said.”

“October third.”

“That’ll be pretty.”

“Yeah.” Dean smiles fondly. “It’s what she wants and I think it’s perfect. For one, I won’t have to stand up at the altar in scorching hot temperatures.” The two share a light laugh before taking another drink of their beers, but before they can pull the bottles away from their mouths the front door flies open, grabbing their attention instantly.

Dean almost chokes down his beer when he sees you storm in, the fact that your eyes are filled with fire and you seem to be on the verge of either throwing something or breaking down in tears immediately puts him on edge.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know that you didn’t…” Sarah yells into the house when she knows she can’t beat you inside, but even then, you cut her off when you lock eyes with Dean.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” Sarah finally makes it alongside you, slightly out of breath as she was rushing after you this whole time.

“Tell you what?” Dean asks, clearly confused.

“About Cassie!” Still confused, Dean looks between you and Sarah, his shoulders beginning to raise when you scream at him again. “Why didn’t you tell me that he hurt Cassie too!?” When it registers, Sam’s gaze drops from the girls and he glances at his brother.

“Maybe we should take off.”

“No! You knew this too!” Getting the heat from you stops Sam from getting up from the couch. Sarah mouths an ‘I’m sorry’ towards the guys but keeps in her spot. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?” your voice comes down in volume but the hurt you’re feeling seems to get worse. “Did you not trust me or something?”

“No.” Dean tells you as he stands from the couch and makes his way across the room. “No, honey, that’s not it.”

“Then why? If you told me then I would have…”

“Done the interview.” he states, wiping away a stray tear before you even realize you’re crying. “I know.” Sarah sneaks around the back of the couch, heading over to join her husband while the two of you have your moment. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“But, Dean, I…”

“I didn’t want you to feel obligated to do it, Y/N, and I know that if I told you about the connection he has with Cassie then you would have jumped into it without thinking about the repercussions it would have had on you.” Knowing that he was speaking the truth, you weren’t really sure what to say.

“But…you’ve been looking for him for so long.”

“Doesn’t matter.” he tells you, a soft smile gracing his lips. “The good thing about all this, is whoever this guy is clearly lives in town and has for a while now. I will get him and I don’t need you hurting yourself to help me.”

“But I want to help you.”

“I know. But what I need you to do is to do what's best for you, not for me.”

“That’s what I told her.” Sarah mutters, getting both you and Dean to look over at the couple sitting semi quietly on the couch. “What? I did.” Sam smiles at his wife and lightly pats her on the thigh.

“But I love you.” you tell Dean when he turns back to you. “And I’m supposed to care about what’s best for you.”

“I know.” he says, his fingers brushing against your cheek as they go back into your hair. “But I don’t want you worrying about this, okay?”

“You know that’s impossible, right?” Dean chuckles a bit, understanding that your statement was meant to be a joke despite the truth behind it and then pulls you in for a hug.

“Yeah, I know.”

[valasania-the-pale]

do you have any galadriel brainrot rattling around that you want to share? I'm especially fascinated by any/all galadriel & maglor ideas either in the third age, or otherwise...chiefly bc of your portrayal of them in "the final verse" is so interesting ...Or just, brainrot in general? Always love hearing your takes on things <3 <3 <3

Always.

If I'm focusing on her relationship with Maglor however, I think it may be funny to share that I don't think Galadriel likes Maglor much at all, but rather pities him. He is, arguably, the most wretched elf alive by the end of things, and a decent reflection of what she could have been had she made different, probably tempting choices in her life. Maglor chose something over goodness (whether that was family, pride, loyalty, or whatever, it kind of depends on your reading of him, but whatever it was, he prioritized that thing over being a decent person), while Galadriel was faced with the choice of her ambition and pride over goodness - and in her case, where it mattered, she chose right. She knows how that temptation can feel, however, and I would imagine that Maglor (and Maedhros, back when he was around) were and are very personal cautionary examples of where personal desire can lead when not tempered by wisdom and care.

You know, I like to think that it would be Galadriel to drag Maglor back to Valinor? Not because she likes him, or because she thinks he deserves it, but because my picture of Galadriel is someone who has seen so many loose ends left untied, between Morgoth's escape, the Valar leaving Middle Earth and its people in the lurch of Morgoth's hatred and warring, and the aftermath of the War of Wrath (e.g. Sauron was left unaccounted for, enabling all of the sorrow to come). Leaving Maglor behind means that the story isn't done, the elves will never fully leave, he'll just fade away into a vague sea-voice, an unending, quavering note, held past the point of breaking, never finished. I think that, where Elrond would honor Maglor's grief and choice, Galadriel would be just unimpressed and impatient with it all. "No, we're not doing this again, get on the damn boat. Mourn in Lorien if you must, but I'll be damned again before I leave you here."

I think it also stems from the idea that, by the end of the third age, I think Galadriel is tired of almost everything, tired enough that old grudges - however deserved - are just not worth clinging to. He's done awful things, but depending on how you read her, hasn't Galadriel also? She's either a bit player in the Silmarillion or she abandoned her family entirely - for someone so skilled, and who later (in her fading years) demonstrates such will and power, it implies a personal history of just generally keeping her hands off. And if she was hands-on, then she failed like everyone else. She's connected to everything intimately, so no matter the reading, there's pain and failure there. Maglor has obviously done more, but understanding doesn't come from equivalence, it comes from kinship.

And, I think the last reason she'd do it, is because Galadriel almost certainly knew Nerdanel. After having to endure Celebrian's situation, after Luthien's departure (and presumably the grief that caused Melian), and now having to face telling Celebrian that she'll never see Arwen again, I don't think Galadriel would just accept Maglor's self-imposed exile knowing it would harm Nerdanel as well. It would be one last, unnecessary tragedy to pile onto an exorbitant pile (and, in my headcanons of Galadriel's history, I like to imagine that she and Nerdanel had a connection of friendship for various reasons). There's a whole sub-narrative about mothers having to just accept the loss of their daughters in the Silmarillion (Earwen joins the list, and Anaire, and--), and if Galadriel has shown anything, it's that she strongly defies convention.

[mickmundy]

SORRY IDK WHERE ELSE TO POST THIS. slapdash combobulation of some bushmed vampire au thoughts i’ve been knocking around in my head for the past few months. whee! i’d like to eventually turn this into a polished fic once i’m done with my main medsnip fic. i don’t want to spread myself too thin but once i get an idea its hard for my brain not to just go nyoom

Sniper is a local hunter who gets brought into this German town in the mountains to deal with population control of these “feral wolves” that have been literally plaguing a lot of land for a long time. They’re harder to kill than regular wolves and Sniper’s a talented beast-hunter so the people of the surrounding area call on him for his expertise and help with finding out wtf is up with all of these Damn Wolves!

So sniper stakes out and observes the wolves and notices that they love eating meat. Almost for Fun. And it doesn’t stop there… they’ll go so far as to lick blood off of the ground, almost draining their kills dry. Not natural for just a normal wolf… and he ends up having to engage with a few of them and shoots them dead with perfect skill (of course). He observes them for about a week before he decides to make a move.

Sniper follows them to see where their den is and they make quite a trek to this huge castle and go in through some concealed undercroft. So clearly they have a master.. but what good would it do to just have a bunch of wolves killing a bunch of people for literally no reason.. nobody in the area is particularly rich and anyone living in a castle like this wouldn’t need anything from common folk anyway. So he decides to approach the castle… and he’s not a people person really so he knocks the elaborate knocker and takes his hat off (polite.. hehe) and clears his throat and isn’t really expecting an answer but the door opens by itself… and sniper hears a booming voice from up above somewhere that’s like “Come in, Herr Hunter! I'll be with you in a moment!”

Sniper’s like ??? but brushes it off… looks up at the impressive balcony and is like 'How the fuck did he know who I was or what I did… “Hello, sorry’a bother you but is there any chance you’ve been commanding those hellhounds that’ve been bleeding the local areas like stuck pigs? S’bad for the environment, mate. So if y’don’t wrangle in your spoiled dogs, I’ll have tooo- uhh…” And at the top of the balcony… Sniper can see the swish of coattails… and then…. appears Medic… vampire Medic…!

He leans over the balcony and grins down at Sniper and is like (hello fraulines! voice ->) “Hello, Herr Hunter!” and does a giddy giggle as he leans over the balcony and is kind of sizing Sniper up… of course plenty of other people have come here to try and stop him, but never because they’d made the connection with his wolves… Ohhh.. this hunter is special! “How can I be of service to you?”

Medic is prepared to kill him like he's killed all the other hunters before him but he's kiiiinda hoping he doesn't have to kill him because he's... cute... in a scruffy bloodbag kind of way...,. and Sniper’s just totally taken aback by how friendly this vampire is so he’s like "Well-..." Clears his throat.. "I've noticed you’ve been a bit of a disturbance.... y'know.,., what with the.... your mutts feasting on the folks around here," and Sniper usually comes in super gruff etc. but Medic is just.. wow..... not like other vampires he's killed....

Vampire Medic hums and is like "Oh, ja, that... I'm afraid it can't be helped! I'm a very... very.... hungry man, after all.." Sniper swallows because well yeah, that much is obvious! And Medic smirks because he can hear sniper's heartbeat like thumpa thumpa! awooooga!!

Sniper's like "Well. Be that as it may, any chance you can stop drainin' folks like stuck pigs?" Medic puts his hands behind his back and is like "Hmm.... well, you're a business man, aren't you, huntsman? You understand that I cannot simply do these things for nothing in return." And Sniper swallows bc he knows how powerful medic is... he can practically smell it and it is not a good idea to fuck with a vampire like this! So he's trying to play his cards a certain way so that he doesn’t have to end this with conflict…

"Well... what's worth an entire town'a people? Dunno how you can just wager-" Medic leaps down from the balcony and lands gracefully on his feet and stands up straight… and Sniper has to crane his neck to look up at him because… holy dooley… that’s a big… well fed…. spoiled vampire… Medic stands at about 9 feet tall and (some) vampires grow in relation to age and how well they feed.. Crikey…!! Not bad on the eyes, either.,.,

Medic cuts him off and is like "You. I would like you! ^_^ &lt;3" Not just bc he thinks sniper is kinda cute... but he's a very good vampire hunter and he could do work for Medic so.... it seems like a good deal to him! A very fair trade…. if he was going to be going ‘on a diet’ for a little while, it would have to be worth it after all! Sniper's like “WHAT?? Y’GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!” And Medic's like "I know you've been the one killing my wolves. I'm very impressed by you, hunter! ^v^" [VERY threatening aura despite hiii <3 vibes] and Sniper’s like “Yeah well what if I’m not interested in negotiatin’ about this, mister-(trying to be condescending)?”

Medic eyes Sniper’s knife and grins and is like “Please! call me Ludwig! (didn’t get that he was trying to be condescending) and of course then you’ll walk out of here alive, just as you came. I must say I would find it interesting that you wouldn’t leap at the chance to be the hero of the local people, though.” And would grin smugly… because sniper’s one life for the lives of the animals and humans of the entire area seems like more than a fair trade… but Sniper’s stubborn as hell and he’s a good enough person but definitely not a saint.

Sniper’s like “And what does all this mean for me? That I’d be some kinda hors d'oeuvre for you until you decide to snap my neck and drain me dry?” Medic’s eyes widen and he laughs and is like “Goodness, no! how barbaric! We shouldn’t focus on how I could kill you. Life is too short to think so heavily about how we might die.” And smirks and Sniper arches his brow, deciding to hear the vampire out..

Medic shrugs and is like “I’m a powerful vampire. I won’t reveal my age to you on our first date (pauses to grin gleefully because he can hear Sniper’s heart flutter at the mention of them being on a date), but I like my home and I intend to stay here and carry on as I’ve had. However, I am not above making compromises!” And shakes his finger and puts his hands behind his back and continues “Of course you know vampires exist. What you might not know is that we don’t all get along.” And says it kinda spitefully and Sniper’s like ???

Medic carries on and explains that vampires are constantly fighting over turf and feeding grounds and whatnot but killing another of their kind personally is… in poor taste. But if Sniper helps Medic take over other territories he won’t need to feed on this area. Less vampires means not as many people die and having both a human and a vampire working together is great for both people and vampires… “But that’s where you would come in, hunter!”

Sniper scoffs and puts his hands on his hips and is like “Y’want me to be your own personal vampire hunter. A vampire hunter that works for a vampire.” Medic hums and is like “Precisely! It has a delectable ring to it, doesn’t it! Hoo hoo!”

Medic approaches Sniper closer and Sniper's on his guard, and Medic bends over at the hip to look Sniper in the eyes and is like “I know you’re a capable hunter, mister Mundy. My wolves have told me (he can communicate with/see “through” their eyes). And if you went from being a small-time crocodile-wrestler and chose to pursue more… exhilarating prey, I can assure you that our deal will give you the thrills of a lifetime.”

Sniper’s looking into Medic’s eyes and then looks down as Medic runs his clawed hand over the sheath of Sniper’s knife holster that’s mounted on his shoulder… and Sniper clears his throat and is like “How’d you know I was-“ and looks behind Medic and sees some of the wolves and looks back at him... Medic smiles toothily and shows off his fangs… and well… the bushman's always admired pretty sets of teeth… control yourself Sniper!

“Imagine this kinda servitude is for life, then.” Medic chuckles and is like “You won’t be trapped here, you’re not my ward. You don’t even have to live here, though I’d be happy to supply you with the finest living quarters you could imagine. Fed, paid, and free as a bird. I do require that in regards to other vampires, your loyalty will be only to me. Of course, there would have to be.. unfortunate repercussions should you betray my interests for another vampire’s.” Sniper snorts and is like “You’re out of your bloody mind.” And Medic laughs…

“Certainly!" He agrees, "So go on and think about it, and come back to me if you decide to take me up on it. The offer is always open.” So Sniper leaves and goes back to the village and gathers up his stuff and finds the locals and tells them “Found a way to deal with the wolves. Gonna take care of it at their den. Shouldn’t be a bother anymore.” They pay him and Sniper stays there for a few more days while he thinks about that vampire’s offer…

Late at night he arrives to Medic’s castle and sees the wolves growling at him as he approaches, but then.,., they stop once they smell him and sit politely! Sniper’s like ???…. and he kicks the door a few times to knock (his hands are full) and the door opens again and Medic smiles pleasantly and is like "I didn't think I'd see you again, huntsman! Welcome back," and Sniper's heart flutters and Medic can hear it… <3 but Sniper stays on the porch.

“I stay, y’leave those people alone. There’s plenty’a eating around here if you’re not greedy about it.” Medic snorts and is like "My pets must eat, you understand (they hunt for him and he can Get Energy from them through blood synthesis. i have a lot of thoughts on this BUT to keep it short lets go with this). As must I. what do you—”

Sniper reaches down and grabs raw meat, intestines, etc. he’s brought and starts tossing it to the wolves outside in the snow, and Medic's pupils dilate at the smell. He knew Sniper must have hunted it (ethically) from local wildlife… and he’d brought it to keep them good on their word… which Medic appreciates because he didn’t have to do that. It’s not anywhere near as good as living blood (truly “fresh”), but the gesture is nice.

Medic’s like “Oh, and are you going to be taking me up on the living quarters?” and sees Sniper’s bags and stuff at his feet looking like a homeless lil hunter and Sniper frowns and is like “‘Course. Clear i don’t live around here, isn’t it?” Medic grins toothily and hums and effortlessly picks up Sniper’s bags for him and is like “Abundantly. Come along then, hunter! I’ll show you to your wing!”

Medic shows Sniper to his quarters which is nicer than anywhere he's ever lived! He's in total awe of the place and that it has electricity and is just so bloody nice… and now he’s living here too… holy dooley. Medic shows Sniper to his “room” which is more like a huge wing that has its own balcony, bathroom, bedroom with a big fireplace, lots of windows…. very very nice. But Sniper’s still totally suspicious!

Medic’s like “I hope it is to your liking! You can of course alter it any way you’d like. I’ll leave you alone for now to get plans for your dinner started. Is steak alright? Oh! And we can start our real work tomorrow!” Like calling behind him as he’s standing at the door…

Sniper’s like this is too good to be true. what the fuck. But instead says “Right. so when do you eat my heart out of my chest then?" and the vampire stops with his back to Sniper and turns his head and gives him a toothy smile and is like "When you beg me to. And not a moment sooner. :) Gute Nacht, Herr Mundy." and delights in the sound of the pounding pounding pounding of Sniper’s heart as he retreats to his main quarters and thinks about his handsome hunter... who is now all his... hoo!

Sniper swallows and is like Wrow… Ummm Okay.,, Hot.,,., and as time goes by he starts to get used to the fancy lodgings and the fact that somehow/somewhy Medic isn't killing him and is actually holding up his end of the bargain, and they're getting so comfortable coexisting together that even a few of Medic's wolves start to warm up to him... and sometimes Medic looks out his Brooding Window to see Sniper playing in the snow with them or them falling asleep in front of the fireplace together... and they start to fall in love... hehehe

okay yeah. as soon as my main bushmed fic is done im polishing this up what the fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!! i need them to fuck nasty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[silverpelt3600]

Halo 2x8 Spoilers!

It is time. It took me a WEEK to find the time to watch this goddamn finale.

Y’all know the drill, this is just stream of consciousness as I watch the episode. Whether it’s coherent or not, either way I’m losing my mind likely!

- pre-episode recap editing goes CRAZZYYY

- okay first scene who is he talking to I’m lost already

- the microscope view was so confusing for a second LMAO. Also this Jeanine girl is literally losing it.

- ALRIGHT YEAH SHE KILLED SOMEONE LMAO. Crazy virus thing? Also the happy music is killing me lol.

- Kai and her team yay! KAI AND HER TEAM OH GOD. Casual explosion that fucks it all up.

- “Master Chief, I speak for the entire UNSC when I say how happy I am to see you back with us” THIS BITCH.

- OOOHHH YEAH JOHN YOU HANG UP ON HER

- OOH. THATS NASTY WHAT JUST CRAWLED OUT OF JANINES MOUTH.

- fuck I feel so bad for John. Totally torn, and the admiral’s little comment of “there’s nothing anyone can do for them” is just the cherry on top. She pisses me off so much lol

- “you have no idea what I can do” FUCK YEAHHHHHH. THATS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUTT, YOU KNOW I LOVE THAT SHIT.

- Cortana my beloved really hoping she’s okay

- Lmao Kai “you ever fire a plasma rifle? You never forget your first”

- NOOO PEREZ

- “What the hell is that?” THAT MY BOYYYYYYY YEAHHHHHH

- THE SLOMO WALK I’m crushing so hard

- oh god the people frozen in the hallways is so creepy…

- OH GOD WHAT THE FUCK THATS SO GROSS FUCKIN TUMOR ARM. THE GUARD TOO? Oh for fucks sake this is nasty

- FOR FUCKS SAKE pulling the Halsey card is wild.

- ooh she’s helping him now. AND AGAIN WHO THE HELL IS HE TALKING TO.

- “you wouldn’t understand. She knows me” what if I cried. What if I started sobbing.

- OUR GIRL SHES IN THE SYSTEMS.

- “You don’t know everything” WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING SINCE WHEN COULD HE DO THAT. Is it because of the artifact’s in the ship?

- holy shit he’s on the Halo. And THE MUSIC. AND CORTANA MY BELOVED.

- “so nice to have you back” I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

- “do you think it’s been waiting all that time? For you?” Alright y’all are gonna stress me out there’s too much to comprehend.

- Holy shit Kai’s crazy. “How hard could it be” well YEAH but come on. “This is gonna hurt”. NO SHIT. Jesus Christ I can’t handle this much emotional strain.

- Alright SHITS HITTING THE FAN IN COMMAND. Oop but that solves the Admiral problem!

- EUGHH THERES SO MANY. Hold up. Hold the fuck UP. Kwan is having a moment. The “Cohesion” needs to FUCK OFF.

- oh fuck. OH FUCK HALSEY HAS IT.

- GIRLY WHAT ARE YOU DOING GODDAMNIT. Ohhh. I see now. Goddamnit.

- OOOH SHIT CRAZY DUEL TIME NOW. Damn John getting his shit rocked before GETTING BACK UP LIKE A BADASS. “We’re not done” DAMN RIGHT!

- oh damn now I feel sad for the covenant homie.

- yooo okay cryofeezing Halsey that’s an idea.

- KAI. BABY GIRL OH MY GOD PLEASE BE ALRIGHT.

- “that can’t be good” well yeah if I saw several spires shoot out of mountains I’d be pretty worried too.

- Again talking to this guy? And he apparently also talks to Makee? YOO WHAT THE FUCK ITS A LITTLE ROBOT????? And the crack in his visor! I’m so confused now have those conversations been in a different time or in John’s conscience or what??

- And then the episode ends, and with it so goes my sanity.

Alright y’all, end of the season! One hell of an episode fr. Without a doubt season 2 has been a fantastic season, developing so much of this storyline in a profound way. The finale sets up for a lot to be handled in Season 3, so here’s to hoping they get the green light to make it.

John has absolutely become a favorite character of mine, and this season has only reinforced that. So much of my emotions while watching have been in empathy for John, which makes these episodes land so much harder.

And shoutout everyone who’s stuck around just for these little posts I make. I started making them just for fun but I kept up with it since y’all seemed to like it, which is cool because now I have a little catalogue of what I was thinking during the episodes that I can look at in the future. And FOR THE RECORD I’m not gonna disappear until season 3 comes out. I still need to get caught up on the storyline in the games lol.

Alright that about sums everything up I think.

*bows to an applause while a single spotlight shines on me and flowers are thrown onto the stage.*